


Ruling Child

by Emerald_Heart12



Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fangirl Thrown Into Death Note, Internal Monologue, Mostly friendship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Well obviously it's Death Note
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-05 15:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 81,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10311290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald_Heart12/pseuds/Emerald_Heart12
Summary: "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting this. Want to know what I wasn't expecting? Do you want the long story or the short story? Whoops, just remembered. There is no short story. Leave if you were expecting a quick read or a bedtime story. You have ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six... I'm expecting you to have left by now if you were planning to, so I'm starting."*~*Sienna Mason dies in a motorcycle accident, after the driver—a known bank robber—dies of an inexplicable heart attack. Wryly, she thinks of her favourite manga and anime, Death Note, as her eyes close for the last time.But while Sienna Mason's story ends there, Kimiko Yamada's is beginning—but how does she retain Sienna's memories and history? Little Kimiko realises that she has been reborn into an alternate universe—one which starts on March 1st, 1986.What is real and what isn't when it comes to the great multiverse?





	1. So, Apparently I’m in a Manga

 

WELL, I CERTAINLY WASN'T EXPECTING THIS. Oh, you want to know what I wasn't expecting? Do you want the long story or the short story? Whoops, just remembered. There  _is_ no short story. Leave if you were expecting a quick read or a bedtime story. I'm giving you ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four . . . I'm expecting you to have left by now if you were planning to, so I'm not going to bother counting to one. Okay, here goes.

I didn't know I would die on that day. Well, Sienna Mason died on that day. So, I was walking across the road. Normal. The green light for pedestrians was on, and I was following the 'traffic laws' and everything.

"Hey, Sienna!" someone called from behind me. Of course, out of reflex, I turned around. You tend to do that when someone calls your name. Searching through the crowd, however, there was no one around. Then I saw that, coming up on my side, was a man who'd been on the news the previous night for robbing a bank. He was clutching his chest, when he flopped forward, his head hitting his motorcycle's handlebars, causing the vehicle to skid out of control. My eyes widened as I saw where it would end up: running over me. It was too late to run.

I heard people mutter stuff like, "the man hit her" and "cardiac arrest".  _How ironic. The criminal died of a heart attack… sounds like the work of Kira to me. He was a thief, then became a murderer after he died. I can't say he didn't deserve to die. Ah great. Now my last thoughts are of Death Note. Well, it's sad that I have to die before deciding whether I'm on L's or Light's side. Now that I have an ample amount of time to contemplate, I think I feel bad for Light for mainly because the Death Note drove him insane (I blame Ryuk). Well, he did have an advantage. The Death Note._

Then everything went black.

Then everything went white.

 _Curse the brightness,_ I thought grouchily.  _Wait, I'm supposed to be dead. Okay, time to collect myself. My name is_ —

Someone lifted me up as if I was a baby. "Kimiko. It suits her," a female voice cooed.

 _Kimiko? What the hell?_ I lifted my hand to punch her, and stopped dead. My hand was small and chubby. Like a baby's. I was horrified.  _Have I been reincarnated? Then how come . . . I died in a motorcycle accident, that much I'm certain of. I'm Sienna Mason . . . no, Sienna Mason is dead. So, I'm . . . Kimiko. Nice name. Now, I just need to find out my surname. Kimiko is a Japanese name, meaning either I'm in Japan, or my parents are Japanese. Unless they're anime freaks bent on me taking over the world, since 'Kimiko' means 'ruling child'._ That was when I saw the calendar in the corner of the room. March 1 st , 1986.  _What the freaking hell? That was thirty years ago!_ I shook my head.  _This is all a hallucination. In fact, I never even got hit by a motorcycle. It's all a horrible nightmare. And I'm going to wake up, in my room, and everything will be back to normal._ That was when I decided I was hungry.  _I wonder, can I speak? Even if I can, I should probably wait until no one can hear me to do so. Lay low until I need to._ I decided to make my hunger known without crying. I tapped the cot's bars with my mouth open. Surprisingly, my parents got the hint. A few hours later, we were to go home. I managed to stay conscious the whole way, when something about the street struck me as familiar, but I couldn't figure out what. That was when I saw the Japanese kanji—so I was right about being in Japan—next to the door. '山田レジデンス'. After a few seconds translating it, I deciphered it as  _Yamada residence_. Even though I had been fluent with my Japanese as Sienna, I would still have to get the hang of reading it with my blurry baby vision. Well, at least I knew my full name: Kimiko Yamada. Yay. Not. I liked Sienna Mason better. Whelp, nothing to do about it now. Upon getting inside the house, the layout was disturbingly familiar. I brushed it off. Sienna had watched too much anime in the future, so I must have seen the basic floor plan of a house like this.

I fell asleep, knowing that when I woke up, if it was all a dream, I'd wake up at home. Twelve years old.

It wasn't a dream. I almost had a panic attack right then and there. Then a thought hit me.  _I forgot how annoying diapers were._

✧ ✧ ✧

A while had passed since I was 'born'. According to the calendar, I turned three months old a few days ago. And according to Mom, we'd be visiting our neighbours—whom Mom had known since childhood—that day.

"Kimi! We're going over to a friend's house, so be good! They have a son who's your age. Maybe you can be friends!"  _I legitimately_ hate  _baby talk. And Mom doesn't even actually baby talk, yet it's still annoying._ Nonetheless, I nodded my head. I wanted to see other people. Mom dressed me up in a blue frock that reached my knees, and brushed my hair, tying it in a ponytail. That was when I looked in a mirror for the first time. I had dark platinum blonde hair that curled at my shoulders, sapphire eyes with long eyelashes, and deathly pale skin. I actually didn't look that bad.

I looked at the plate next to the door we were waiting outside of. '夜神レジデンス". I'd seen those kanji somewhere before . . . the kanji for 'night' and 'God'.

That was when a figurative clot on my memory was torn open.  _My name's Light Yagami. 'Light' is written with the kanji for 'moon', and 'Yagami' is written with the kanji for 'night' and 'God'. Unusual, isn't it?_

Night and God. Yagami. Let that sink in. Now try picture my own confusion. Yagami residence.  _If this is a dream, then I am in the world of Death Note. First I find out it's 1986, the year Light (and apparently me as well) was born, I can recognise the houses, then I see 'Yagami residence'._

My thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice greeting my mother, "Good morning, Chiyoko!" The woman who had greeted my mother had shoulder length brown hair, and I was sure I'd seen her  _somewhere_ before.

"Good morning, Sachiko!" Mom responded. I stiffened.  _Sachiko Yagami. This proves my theory correct._

Mom and her friend exchanged congratulatory words when Sachiko asked if I wanted to meet her son.  _Light._ I nodded enthusiastically, remembering at the last second not to speak. It would be weird if I had spoken. So I kept my internal fangirling… internal.  _Oh my gods I am going to meet Light Yagami and he's my next door neighbour and oh my gods I literally cannot even just_ —  _okay, I'm done._

That was when I met Light Yagami, child prodigy, protagonist of my favourite manga and anime, and self-proclaimed God of a world unblemished by criminals. That was how he'd probably put it, big-headed psychopath he is. Well, would be. Then again, that would be seventeen years from now.  _Now_ , as seen during the Yotsuba arc, Light would be sweet, kind, innocent, and actually  _human_ , with real emotions, who'd be humiliated if he couldn't prevent a murder even from taking place at all, let alone kill a person. No,  _now_ , he'd be an infant, only capable of thinking infant thoughts at the age of three months old, while I revel in the 'future' and with thoughts of how I died in my past life. Back on topic. Mom carried me upstairs and placed me next to Light in his cot, where he was looking intently at me. Light Yagami as a baby was  _adorable_. Not many fangirls and fanboys get the pleasure of seeing their favourite fictional characters as babies. Again, here was the exception. Light looked extremely similar to what he would as a seventeen year old. His eyes were wide and curious, his hair sometimes covering them. He looked at me with a fascination that said, 'Everyone else is so big; this other thing is my size.'  _If I let Light start the 'conversation', I can see what level of intelligence to act at. He's unbelievably smart, so I should be able to pull it off._

Light looked at me intently. I heard Light say, " _Hello, who are you?_ " Apparently I knew baby language as well as the other languages I learnt as Sienna: English, Japanese, French, and a fair amount of Gnommish, thanks to reading a lot of Artemis Fowl. That was when the Mom and Mrs. Yagami left.

" _I'm Kimiko Yamada. It's nice to meet you, Light!_ " I said back, smiling.

Light looked at me suspiciously—I thought a three month old couldn't pull off a look of suspicion, but then again, this was Light we're talking about. " _How did you know my name?_ " he questioned, his tone lowering.  _Uh-oh . . ._ I tried to come up with a believable lie, all while being fully aware of how cute Light was as a three month old, even though he'd practically started interrogating me, a girl with the memories of a twelve year old.

I kept a straight face as I answered, " _Your mom said it while talking to my mom._ " I then smiled." _I guess we may as well be friends_."

Light smiled back. " _Yes._ " he said while sliding a stuffed koala to me. " _This is a gift for you, since we're friends now._ "

I hugged the koala. " _I'm going to call her Sienna._ " I said without thinking.  _Damn it, I need to get a hold on myself._

Light grinned. " _Sienna's a lovely name!"_   _Is that a lie? No, his eyes are too earnest._ It may or may not have messed with my heart a little. I put Sienna on my side and changed my hugging target to Light. " _Uh, what're you doing?_ " he asked cautiously.

I rolled my dark blue eyes. " _It's called a hug, silly._ "

Light looked a little miffed that I called him silly. " _I know what a hug is; I was asking_ why  _you were hugging me._ "

" _I recall you saying that we're friends now._ " I said simply, when Mom pulled me out of the crib. "Mom! Put me down! We were still in the middle of a conversation!" I scowled. Mom's hands trembled as she complied, and Light was gaping.

Then he laughed, " _You can speak Japanese?_ " Oh, damn it.

Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to speak from now. I can teach Light too. "Um . . . oops. I guess I kinda picked it up . . . ?" Now, usually I'm a brilliant liar. But Light audibly snorted at my hesitant response. Yet Mom and Mrs. Yagami were convinced.

"My little baby said her first words!" Mom squealed. "And a whole sentence too!" I looked over my shoulder to see Light hiding a smirk. Not very well, I might add.

✧ ✧ ✧

For the next few months, Light and I met up regularly. I'd help him with Japanese, and he was fluent within four weeks. Still, I didn't miss out on my chance to have fun while acting as a translator. Once, Light asked me to tell his mother that he was hungry, but instead, I said he needed a diaper change. His expression was  _absolutely priceless_! Of course, he wouldn't talk to me for a few days without scowling at me, while I just shrugged and played innocent.

It was odd, teaching Light Yagami, the prodigy.  _Soon enough, it'll be the other way around._ Internally, I chuckled mirthlessly.


	2. Great, Now I’m a Common Victim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimiko was NOT ready for her kindergarten to be attacked.

Finally, it was time for kindergarten. Mom had tied my hair into two pigtails, effectively making me look like Misa. I, of course, immediately undid them and left my hair open. _No way_ was I going to look like a ditz. Looking down, Mom had dressed me into a blue sleeveless frock that had a ribbon that perfectly matched the sapphire hue of my eyes. Mom had tried to convince me to come in the stroller, but I insisted that I walk. I had a reputation to create, after all. Funnily enough, Light had decided to walk as well. I smiled as I greeted him. “Good morning, Light!”

“You too, Kimi,” he smiled back. I swear, that smile was adorable. Not a trace of the boy he would become when he was seventeen, not fourteen years from now. This was a pure, intelligent, sweet three year old who didn’t know of the evils of the world and future. _Evils of the world . . . ? That’s ridiculous._ Yet I couldn’t help but remember how grateful I was to Fate for killing the man who killed Sienna Mason.

 _Fate . . . or Kira?_ a voice reverberated in the area. I swung my head around. No one seemed to have said it . . . but _Kira_? Kira was to be the innocent little boy next to me who would believe that the world was rotten and evil, and that it was his job to cleanse it of such. The boy who would believe himself God, and let his pride be his downfall. Subconsciously, I slightly edged away from him. He was— _is_ —my best friend . . . not to mention my  _only_ friend. I vowed that I would not let the innocent boy next to me fall under the trap of the Death Note. No. Matter. What. I didn't want him to die. Smiling triumphantly, as if I'd already won, I took Light’s hand in mine and marched towards kindergarten, pulling him behind me.

When we _finally_ got to campus, Light and I wished our parents goodbye and headed into our classroom.

Our teacher was a strange one. He was an odd height, and looked like a deflated Santa Claus. He was just as jolly too.

“Kayumi, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?” suggested the teacher.

A girl with long dark hair walked shyly to the front. “I'm Kayumi Akima. I like the colour purple, and I don't like clowns.”

One by one, the teacher got us to tell us our name and our likes and dislikes.

“Okay, what about you, Light?” he called.

Light smiled like a little angel. “My name's Light Yagami. Some of the things I enjoy doing as hobbies are solving things. My dad is a detective, and I'd like to be one too. I don't like injustice, and I think the world should do without criminals.” I froze at his speech. _So much for not knowing about the evils of the world, huh. He's already thinking about it. I have to turn him back soon._ A smile crept on my face. _And I know just how to do it._

“L-Light, that was brilliant! You'll be a great person when you grow up!” the teacher cried jovially.

“Thank you, sensei. I plan to be,” Light responded coolly. _So you wanna play it that way, huh?_

When it was my turn to go up, I stood confidently at the front. “My name is Kimiko Yamada. Please ask me what you would like to know about me.”

“Why don't you tell us about what you like and don't like?” the teacher suggested.

I smirked for a fraction of a second, then threw on a mask of calm. “That is hardly a fair request.” I said smoothly. Light arched an eyebrow, seeing what I was getting at. “My likes are one thing, but you clearly asked me to state the things that I _don't_ like. Everyone else stated their dislikes, but I have to state the things I _don't_ like. For example, cheese. I don't _like_ cheese, but that doesn't mean I _dislike_ cheese. My opinion on cheese is neutral, so if I were to state the things I don't like, I would be dead before I could get _halfway_ through it. There are too many things in the world that my opinion is neutral on, and I cannot list them. There are also things I have no particular opinion on, such as barium. Barium is the fifty-sixth element of the periodic table, and is the element before the lanthanides group. I have never seen barium in real life, so I cannot say enough about it. Either way, I enjoy reading, learning languages, and challenging my intellect.” My eyes rested on Light for a second as I added, “I dislike contumelious, Machiavellianistic, autotheistic, self-righteous megalomaniacs who abuse power.” I said smugly. _I win, Light_ , I joked internally.

I sat down next to him with a self-satisfied smirk as everyone—everyone except Light—gaped at me.

“Don't you think you overdid it? I don't think that sensei understood half the words you said.” Light chastised me.

“Nah, dictionaries exist.” I responded smoothly as Light emitted a low chuckle.

“You really do know how to overreact.” he teased. I ruffled his neatly combed hair in response. “Hey!” he protested. _This is not the Light Yagami I read about in Death Note. This is a kind, intellectual, adorable boy who is playing with his best friend. And that best friend… isn’t even a normal person. She used to belong to a world where he was a regular genius corrupted by power, who was a mere_ fictional character _. Not a person with emotions. A monster. He was made the villain thanks to a rogue Shinigami, whom had bestowed an extraordinary power; an extraordinary curse. This sweet angel has no trace of the corruption of the autotheistic personality his future self was fated to be._

“Kimiko!” Light poked me, seemingly for a seventh time, snapping me out of my internal monologuing. I looked at him, dazed. He rolled his eyes. (Wait, are three year olds supposed to roll their eyes?) “I asked if we should go talk to the teachers. I am utterly fed up of this boring place.”

I nodded in agreement. I’d already done kindergarten once. To do it again would be tedious, to say the very least. Then, I noted that Light’s hairline was slightly below mine. A grin was thrown onto my face. “Light, I’m taller than you!” I exclaimed. _Please let me stay taller than him. That would be absolutely hilarious! I mean, even in_ Death Note 13: How to Read _, it states that Light is tall for his age! Come to think of it, he’s as tall as L’s slouching height, and the guy’s seven years older than Light!_

Instead of pouting or sputtering like most kindergarten-attending males would, Light simply said, “Well, thanks to the difference in the genetic structure between males and females, females mature faster than males, thus effectively allowing the male more time to grow—”

“I know,” I deadpanned. “Jeez, now everyone’s staring at us again. At least _act_ like a normal teena—I mean, kindergartener.” Luckily for me, Light either didn’t seem to notice my slip-up, or he decided to pay no heed to it.

“I’m not going to downplay my intelligence to just _fit in_. If—” Light was cut off by the sound of glass shattering. My eyes narrowed. Unfortunately for me, I’d been caught in such activities as Sienna, and I recognised the sound as a window breaking immediately.

“Everyone, hide!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Several kids hid in toy cupboards, in the cubby holes, and in the ball pit. Some even hid behind a pile of pillows. Light gripped my hand as the teacher stood in front of us like a shield. That was when he collapsed face first onto the floor. The first thing I thought was _Heart attack?_ but then I saw blood pooling on the floor. _Oh, gods._ Light gripped my hand tighter as he and I both stared, horrified, at the dead body of the cheery teacher. His knuckles were white with tension and I could feel his pulse raised to to his hand clenching around mine. Thanks to my experience of a similar situation (albeit not in kindergarten), however, I kept a straight face, allowing my more mature twelve (fifteen?) year old instincts to take over. “Light, tell all the kids to stay in their spots and not peek outside, and you hide. I’ll call the police and move the body.”

Light met my eyes, allowing me to see a blazing fire in them. “No. I don’t want you touching the body. For one thing, you’ll be marked as a suspect, and for another, just _no_. You will _not_ touch a dead person. The murderer is nearby, and if you get hurt . . .” he trailed off. “ _You_ hide. I’ll call the police.” he said stubbornly. If I could, I’d have told him why he should let me deal with the situation, but I obviously couldn’t. _How is this a three year old? No child should have seen anything of the sort. If they hadn’t hidden themselves before he was shot, they’d have witnessed an intentional murder. Poor Light has seen his first case._

Shaking the thought off, I pulled Light over to the teacher, seeing as his grip was like a vice, and pulled the teacher’s cell phone out of his pocket. I wiggled my fingers to tell Light to let go so I could dial the cops, but he was too shaken up to notice. I resigned myself to pushing the buttons on the old-fashioned phone (hey, I’d had an iPhone 6S before!) with my nose. “Hello? A man’s been shot . . .” I gave the police officer out kindergarten name and address, then pulled one of the blankets over the former teacher’s dead body. The blood immediately dyed it crimson.

I pulled Light over to one of the chairs, facing the entrance. I made him sit down, and tried—and failed—to pull my hand out of his. He inhaled calmly, and looked me in the eyes. “No.” he stated. “The killer is loose in the school. It’s too dangerous to sit here in the open.”

That was when I snapped. “Yeah, that applies for you too! Just because you’re smart, you think you’ll be okay if whoever it is decides to go on a murder spree? Face it, you’re an ordinary human, Light Yagami; you’re _not God_!” I shouted.

His eyes hardened at my harsh tone. “Neither are you. You are my _best friend_ and I am not going to lose you.”

Desperately, I said, “Okay, let’s compromise. Together?”

He nodded. “Together.”

“Um, my fingers are going numb,” I commented, pointing at his exceedingly strong grip on my left hand. He pulled his hand away. Going up to the main office, we saw several bodies—all of which belonged to an adult. Janitors and teachers alike lay dead on the floor.

“Whoever this guy is definitely wants us to be helpless. Adults could fight him, and hold him down for some time until the police arrive, but children are helpless. He’s probably weaker than usual.” Light commented. At the age of three, he had come up with his first criteria. His detective skills could’ve rivalled L’s. They could’ve made a great team, solving impossible cases, catching invisible criminals and battling in tennis. Or they could’ve been rivals, entertaining each other, both battling to become the world’s greatest detective, trying to see who solves which case first. Light Yagami would have had a great life planned if he hadn’t found the Death Note. And I was determined to make sure he didn’t. “. . . stealthy. Are you even listening, Kimiko?” Light’s voice jolted me back to reality.

That was when I heard footsteps—they were heavy, so they undoubtedly belonged to a middle-aged adult. “Someone’s coming!” I hissed. “Get down!” We ducked under the teacher’s table in the security room.

The man who walked past had brown, scraggly hair, tired eyes, and a flabby, saggy face. Somehow, I knew I’d seen the guy somewhere before. Quickly, Light and I hacked into the school database, and looked at the surveillance feed. Half of the other kindergarteners in our class had fallen asleep in their hiding places. That was when I saw the man pull something out of his pocket. I zoomed in on it, seeing the name _Kurou Otoharada_. My eyes widened. _This was the first guy Light killed with the Death Note! He really has a thing for attacking kindergartens and nurseries, doesn’t he? This is about fourteen years prior to his death, and still the same thing._

A loud motor noise jolted both Light and I to our senses. “It's a helicopter!” I exclaimed. “The police should be here soon!”

And Otoharada chose that moment to enter the security room. “They actually think I wouldn't shoot a child . . .” his smile grew maniacal. “I suppose I'll have to prove them wrong. Which one of you two shall I take? You, girl, are pretty. Let me show them that I am not partial to anyone.” _Pedophile_ , I thought.

He grabbed my arm and started dragging me outside. His grip was almost as tight as Light's had been. I looked up at said boy helplessly, and I saw a cold gleam in his eyes. It scared me, to say the least. Light, whom I could usually read like an open book, was absolutely unreadable. Would he let Otoharada kill me? The strength in his grip earlier said otherwise, but this was _Light Yagami_ we're talking about.

Light bent down, and picked up a shard of glass from the floor. “Let her go,” he said icily. “Or I will not hesitate to end your life as you have so many others. I do not think a shard of glass would feel good plunged into your shrivelled heart.” The tone in Light's voice made my blood run cold. It was the same tone he employed when threatening Raye Penber, when he vowed to kill L. The same tone he used when he knew he had the upper hand, when he was absolutely corrupted. _I will not hesitate to end your life as you have so many others._ That was when I knew that this boy was undoubtedly Kira. All that innocence lost because of a man threatening his friend.

Otoharada merely snorted. “You're a child. You wouldn't.”

 _Bad idea bad idea bad idea bad idea…!_ I chanted over and over in my head. I clenched my eyes shut.

A cold circle pressed to my forehead.

I couldn't breathe. Yet I cracked a single eye open. A rainbow, one that could be seen when reflected from glass, passed over my line of vision. Light had thrown the shard. I opened my other eye, to see the shard lodged into Otoharada’s left lung, almost killing him. And Light threw himself on me, something wet hitting my bare shoulder.

“Are you okay, Kimi?” Light whispered, his voice cracking. Then it hit me that Light was crying. I wrapped my arms around him.

“I'm fine; shocked at most,” I said, “but you were going to kill that man. That shard missed his heart by barely a couple of centimetres. Light, you can't act so brashly.”

He stiffened in indignation. “He killed so many people. He _deserves_ to die.”

I pulled away. “If you'd killed him, you'd have been no better than him. You'd both be killers.” I said bitterly.

“But—” his voice broke. “But how am I supposed to react when he was going to kill you? You think I'd have let him?”

I didn't answer. I didn't want him to think I'd doubted him.

He turned away. “I think the police are here. Too late, I might add. We've done more than half their job. We identified the killer, and incapacitated him. Even though he's probably trying to limp out the front door”—indeed, he was—“he won't stand a chance against a dozen cops with a punctured lung.”

I nodded, and Light slipped his hand in mine. We needed each other's strength.

The parents (along with us) were informed that school would be out for several weeks until the school board found new teachers to replace those who _had to leave at an unfortunate time early in their lives_.

✧ ✧ ✧

However, that night, one thought rang through my head. _I may not have approved of my best friend trying to kill him… but I'd have been dead—again—if he hadn't._ Once again, I found myself respecting what Kira stood for. _I'd have done the same if Light was in that situation_ , I realised. How could I possibly have yelled at Light when he'd saved my life? But the superior mentality he would develop, the God complex that would get him killed . . .  _that_ was what scared me. I could only hope that his memory of this day would fade over time.

I could only hope.


	3. Well, I Never Said I Wasn’t Insane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kimiko needs to stop letting the future control her. Or . . . well, maybe she does.

It was finally the first day of primary school. Light and I were both five, and with the amount of time we'd spent together, we were practically siblings. I donned the uniform; a beige skirt that barely reached my knees and a white blouse striped with sky blue, cerulean, beige, and white stripes, and knee-length white socks with black slip-on flats. I'd pulled my hair into a plait, allowing it to fall on my right shoulder. Looking in the mirror, I looked like Elsa from Frozen. Nope. Nope, nope, nopity nope nope nope. I quickly undid it and tied my hair into a loose ponytail. Much better. Lugging my school bag along made me remember how eager I was to start primary last time. I'd been in such a rush, I'd knocked over a flowerpot at the entrance. This time, there weren't any orchids blocking the front door. I’d be seventeen and getting ready for university if I hadn’t died. I shook the thought off. Now was not the time. Mom had insisted I take Sienna (the koala) with me that day, for good luck or whatever. Light was looking at me intently, watching to see if I’d respect my reputation or his feelings. I’d seen what he could do with a shard of glass at the age of three, and with a whisk at the age of four (don’t even ask. Let’s just say it involved a lot of blood. And a robber). The guy was hellbent on protecting me and whatnot. That’s not to say he wasn’t good at it. Each time, he’d point out that the guy deserved worse than an almost fatal injury for threatening my safety. By being a hazard for your safety, he is being a hazard for my sanity, he’d said. What he hadn’t realised was that by being an overprotective brotherly figure, he was the one putting his sanity at stake, not me. Either way, I took the koala. The one bearing my former name. I’m the one who’s going to go insane, I thought wryly. Why don’t you try dying, being reborn into a fictitious world, becoming best friends with a future serial killer who thought he was God, all while remembering that you wouldn’t have given a damn about what happened because it was supposed to all be fiction in your past life.

Yeah, that could drive a person over the edge for sure. For some, maybe even over the edge of a building. Sighing, I pulled out my copy of A Curious History of World Mathematics, and started reading. It was a good ten minutes of waiting before the coffee-haired Adonis met me outside.

“Took you long enough,” I snorted, seeing Light fiddle with his top button.

He smirked devilishly in response. “I was planning to get here in five minutes. I hate waiting,” he said in a sickly sweet tone, making me slap him playfully on the shoulder. He flinched a little, but took my hand nonetheless.

“Well, next time if the bus is early, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” I retorted teasingly.

Thankfully, our first day in primary was not like our first day in kindergarten. The only thing remaining to worry about from the last incident was that Light and my faces had been in the news. We’d recounted the story to the police as we were the only two witnesses fully aware of what was going on. Because Light was the one who’d thrown the shard, he was the centre of attention, while I slunk slightly into the shadows. He was the Ladybug to my Chat Noir. I was the sidekick; Light the hero. Oh, and the apparently not-so-important detail that Otoharada escaped jail and was on the run. Yeah, minor detail, that. Definitely. Maybe as unimportant as Hawk Moth releasing another akuma. I’ll stop the Miraculous references now.

At some point, we all had to come up with a story to tell in front of the class with a toy, especially if we’d brought one in. Light had brought a bunch of action figures, and stepped onto the small raised platform in front, and said, “This is the story of the Battle of Thermopylae.”

I audibly snorted at the thought. “Light, they’re first graders. That’s ridiculous,”

Light quirked an eyebrow. “So are you and I, last I checked.”

“I highly doubt you can explain something like the Battle of Thermopylae to twenty-eight uninterested students, and catch their attention.”

“Wanna bet, Sapphire?”

“You’re on, Coffee.”

Light and I had actually nicknamed each other after our eye colours. I was Sapphire, ad he was Coffee. The teacher looked impatient with our banter, and ushered Light to continue. Pulling out one set of dolls—sorry, action figures, Light began to tell the tale of one of the more famous Graeco-Persian Wars.

His words flew like watercolours from a brush, painting out the story he told, word after word making everyone itch to hear more. The battlefield was dark and bloody, the warriors tired but persistent, each fighting for their respective nation. Neither Greece nor Persia were willing to back down. Light told the tale with superfluous detail, bringing us into the battle himself, giving us all a peek of the past. When he finished, every student was looking at Light, their eyes begging for more. There was a victorious twinkle in his eyes as coffee met sapphire. “Looks like the the drink is stronger than the gem,” he commented lightheartedly.

“But was it caffeine or alcohol?” I retorted.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, you’re still underage, Kimi.”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten them intoxicated with your story.”

“Not my fault I’m brilliant.”

“But it _is_ your fault you’re narcissistic.”

“All right, Light, please take your seat. Kimiko, it’s your turn.” the teacher cut in, halting Light and my playful arguing.

I took my spot where Light had been minutes earlier, and began, “Nobody knows where or when this began,” I started, “but villains—bad people—starting becoming powerful. In this world was a boy who believed it was not fair. He thought that evil should be punished. Because of that, he wanted to join the police, so he could make the world a happier and safer place. But he was still a child. He did not have enough power or influence to make a difference. One day, he found a small, magic notebook lying on the floor. When the boy saw it, he learnt that whoever’s name was written in the book would be punished. The bad people would disappear, leaving only the good and happy people to live and prosper. The boy started writing the names of very bad people, cleaning up the world. The bad people all started disappearing. But that was when another man, the world’s best detective, showed up. He announced on television that whoever was killing the bad guys had to stop, because no matter who you’re killing, killing people is evil. The boy got upset about this, and promised to get rid of the detective so nothing would stop him from making his perfect world. The boy and the detective both fought with their minds, and whoever found out the other first would win. The boy would drop a clue here and there, and when the detective would pick up on it, he would quickly find a way to pass off the blame. The boy and detective chased each other for a year, when finally, the boy managed to trick a person into getting rid of the detective. But still, he could not just stop there, for the sake of his family and his world. He grew into a man. He pretended to be the detective for five years, leading his blind followers into the lion’s throat. He believed he had won, that no one was better than he was. But what he didn’t know was that there were two little boys, both who wanted to defeat the person whom their beloved detective was after, but could not work together. The older one managed to take the notebook, but eventually was forced to give it back. The other one stayed on the sidelines, watching the battle unfurl. He managed to figure out that the boy, now a man, had taken the place of their detective, and the two boys worked together to try and find him. The older boy tried hard, but ended up giving up his life, and the younger one honoured the older one as well as his detective by eventually tricking the man into admitting that he was the mastermind behind the punishment of criminals. The man had lost.” It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d given them a brief summary of Death Note, which would end up playing out before their very eyes in twelve years to come. Oh, gods, Light wasn’t supposed to know! I mentally chastised myself for being so stupid. It went along the lines of: You damn idiot, you freaking handed his death to him on a platter. Good luck saving this little piece of egotistic manipulative madman from the deepest depths of Hell!

I rubbed my forehead and sat next to Light. “Gods, I went too far with that one, didn’t I?”

Light looked at me. “I liked it. It shows a battle between justice and partiality, and the devotion of those who trust deeply in others. Personally, I think the boy had the right idea, but I bet if I was him, I wouldn’t get caught.” he said, thinking deeply. _If only you knew…_ I thought wistfully.

The rest of the day passed fairly normally. No psychotic criminals, no floating apples, no murder notebooks. _Yet_ , I thought despairingly, placing a dice on top of my dice building. _That was Near’s thing._ I dropped the dice, knocking down my dice version of the _Taipei 101_ . Rubbing my forehead, I took my seat next to Light as I opened my snack box. Barbecue potato chips, an apple, strawberries and chocolate. I laughed sardonically at the contents. _Light, Ryuk, L, and Mello._

“Kimi? Kimi! Kimiko!” Light had been trying to get my attention again.

I looked at the brunette, dazed. “Huh? Wha—? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

He rolled his eyes. “ _Why_ are you sitting like that?” I looked down.

Oh, shoot.

I’d been sitting like L.

“Um…” I was saved from answering when the bell rang. _Saved by the bell_ , I thought. As Sienna, I’d been saved by the bell so many times, I’d wondered if I’d been blessed by Tyche. I still retained _some_ of my decent luck. I sighed in relief.

Which made me remember that Light and I were _neighbours_ , meaning we’d be on the school bus together. Damn it. Light walked up to her with an eyebrow raised as he took his seat next to her. “You didn't answer.”

“Well, it improves my focus by roughly forty percent.” I mumbled without thinking, then almost slapped a hand over my mouth. _Baka baka baka baka baka baka baka!_ I yelled at myself internally.

To my relief, Light thought I was joking, considering he was trying to stifle a laugh. My expression turned sour at the fact he was practically mocking me, and I playfully punched him in the shoulder. He rubbed his arm. “Ouch. Kimi!” he said, more in teasing laughter than in pain.

“Come on! Stop being so sensitive.” I rolled my eyes as I leaned on the glass beside me. The trees rolling past made me think of the forest I’d gone to on a school trip once a Sienna. I pulled the koala toy from my bag.

Light’s eyes brightened a little. “You still have it?”

I nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, it actually… kinda comforts me. I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

“Not really. I remember a recent study showed that having toys and other things you find familiar can boost your optimism and trust in a new place and in anxiety.” Light babbled, laughing in between breaths. _That’s why Near probably doesn’t get embarrassed . . ._ I laughed internally.

“Thanks, Light,” I said, flicking his forehead.

“Please, stop with the abuse. It’s not fair. I don’t hit you!” Light squirmed in his seat, looking away. _On about fairness? You seem to promote that in the future, Light Yagami._

“Oh, shut up. But look, you can have my book, if that keeps you quiet enough.” Pulling out a leather-bound cover, I plopped it on his lap. It was an old book, the leather a faded brown. One of my own notebooks that I’d bought from the store, and only started using _after_ I was a hundred percent sure it wasn’t a brown Death Note. Okay, I may or may not have had to write down a name in it to check, and it didn’t work! You can’t blame me!

“Kimi?” Light asked.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you making me read your diary?”

Damn it. I cursed myself—yet _again_ —for being an idiot. Sure enough, the first page said:

_Diary Entry One:_

_Am I hallucinating? Is this real? Imagine getting transported into your favourite fictional world. Now imagine meeting your favourite characters after dying in a motorcycle accident. “You’re supposed to be sane,” they’d said. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE SANE?_ The entry trailed off into my ranting and the like, helping me think up an excuse. I snorted. “Light, you moron, that’s not a diary. Getting transported into a fictional world? Please. I’ve been trying to write a short story. I’m writing it in first person, so I wanted my main character to stay _in_ character.” Looking at his expression, I grumbled, “Oh, just proofread it!”

An hour later, the speakers in the bus blared, “The bus has arrived. This is the last stop. All passengers, please exit the bus in a calm manner.” The driver’s tone was smooth, as if all impurities in the world were absent. _But when impurities are missing, where do they hide? In the nightmares of sleeping souls? In the depths of Hell? A place in between normalcy and the supernatural?_

I shook my head and shrugged on my backpack. “You’re coming over for dinner tonight, right?” I asked the brunette on my left. Upon receiving an affirmative, I rang my house doorbell. When I got to my room, I slumped on my bed, groaning in exhaustion. I almost blew it today. Almost.

Just then, a smell I recognised on first sniff wafted into my nose: smoke. The house had caught alight—yes, of course I’m kidding. No burning roofs tonight. Instead, I was asleep in twenty seconds flat. Only to be woken an hour later by coffee eyes with a mischievous glint in them. I groaned, hoping Light would leave me alone. Luck wasn’t in my favour. He stayed there, just grinning at me like the Cheshire Cat. I shut my eyes. _Take a hint, moron_ , I thought. Nope. Just… why…? Disgruntled, I peered at him through my left eye.

I hadn’t expected him to be seventeen years old.

“Hello, Sapphire,” he said, winking. I looked at myself. I was seventeen too. What—just—happened—? Then I winced. I’d never been seventeen before; heck, I’d never been a _teenager_ before, so I had _no_ idea how to handle _stupid adolescent freaking hormones_ . I mean, I’d known Light was handsome at this age. He always had been. But the _damn hormones_ were making me fifty times as self-conscious about several things: one, did I have a bed head? Two, oh my God, is he staring at me _that_ way? Three, _I fell asleep in my primary school uniform._ What the hell am I wearing underneath this blanket? Four, I did I mention he’s staring at me like _that?_ Five, _damn you_ , stupid endocrine system. Six, Light, get out of my room, I don’t even know if I’m dressed right now. Seven, however hit me hard enough to vacuum the air from my lungs. Above his head was a floating red apple. I met his eyes, and instead of coffee, I was greeted by crimson. _This isn’t Light. This is Kira._

“Kimi,” he started, and the pet name sounded like a knife in his hands. “Join me in the New World. Be my Goddess.”


	4. Fate Seems to Have a Vendetta Against Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caught between a rock and a hard place? Who's the real threat?

“Kimi,” he started, and the pet name sounded like a knife in his hands. “Join me in the New World. Be my Goddess.”

I lifted my feather quilt off me. I was wearing a strapless black dress which matched the tone of Light’s voice, to say the least. I looked up at him.  _ Play clueless _ , I decided. “N-new world?” I let out a short bark of laughter. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

“The new world I am creating. One where crime ceases to exist. A safe one, where good triumphs and the innocent and those who fear evil are safe, and can live happily.” he responded. When he put it that way, it was almost tempting. Forget ‘almost’, it _was_ tempting.   
“I…” I stuttered.

He looked up, and those layered, (probably) dishonest, manipulative ruby eyes met mine. “Like you,” he whispered. His face moved closer to mine. 

“I…” I tried again. Even closer. Our faces were millimetres apart. Now let me say this plainly. If I’d been in my right mind I’d have run. Backed away. Punched him, even. 

But I wasn’t in my right mind thanks to those stupid hormones. I allowed his lips to meet mine.  _ Light’s kissing me _ , I thought shakily.

I pulled away after well over twenty seconds, immediately regretting the next thing I said. “How is good supposed to triumph when evil is at its head?”

His crimson eyes grew cold. “I didn't want to have to do this, Kimi,” he said, “but you leave me no choice.” My eyes widened in realisation.  _ The Death Note… _ I thought as he reached for the (literally) damned object and scrawled five kanji down. 山田貴美子。 _ Yamada Kimiko. _

Forty seconds passed. 

“Gah!” I screamed as my eyes shot open. I quickly looked over at the mirror on my right. Never had I been so relieved to see a five year old face staring back at me.  _ It was all a dream _ , I told myself.  _ All a dream.  _ Inhaling slowly, I made my way to my bathroom, peeling off my sweaty uniform and stepping into the shower. The cool water running through my hair and onto my skin relaxed me.  _ All a dream.  _ I kept reassuring myself. I quickly wore a pair of jeans with a pink top and slipped my feet into my fuzzy winter slippers. Looking into the mirror, I was as white as a sheet. I mean, I’d always had exceptionally pale skin, but even for me, this was unnatural. I tried for a smile. It looked more like a grimace. Shaking my head, I went downstairs.  _ Would Light really go that far? Then again, he was even willing to use his own father to win… oh, god, why do I have to be besties with a future psychopath…? _ I made my way to the kitchen to get myself a snack. I settled for chocolate lava cake and a hot chocolate. It was the colour of coffee. Coffee. Light. The colour his eyes  _ should _ be. Crimson. Kira. The colour of blood and evil. I tried to put the thought out of my head for the day, then noticed that my hot cocoa had gone cold. Deciding that I didn’t feel like reheating it, I shoved a dollop of ice cream in my glass and sipped the drink. It brought a sweet taste that washed out the bitterness from the dream. I cut into the chocolava cake. The hot, melted chocolate warmed my tongue, flushing out the ice in my veins. All in all, it relaxed me. Then, the doorbell  _ had _ to ring.  _ Light _ . Oh gods, how was I going to face him after  _ that _ ? I’d freaking allowed him to kiss me, and I didn’t even try to pull away!  _ No, calm down. That never happened. It was all a dream. All a dream. And that was seventeen year old me with stupid hormones. Not five year old me who apparently has more sense. _ After a few more calming breaths, I got up from my seat and entered the living room. 

“Kimi, your face is red! What happened?” Mom interrogated.  _ Oh gods, I’m blushing. _

Thinking quickly, I muttered, “Hot chocolate burnt my tongue.” I quickly plopped onto the couch as far away from Light as possible. I was physically unable to look him in the eye.  _ This is irrational. _ I chastised myself. I moved up next to my friend. “On the news the other day, apparently this detective called L made a case that he solved public. He didn’t even go to the scene himself. He’s officially the world’s best detective,” I announced. I looked at Light to see how he would react to that. 

Said boy smiled sunnily. “Well, he sounds pretty good, then.” I was surprised. Light barely batted an eyelid, when I’d expected him to act superior and vow to become the best or something. Almost nothing in the Light before my eyes reflected the monster in my dream. A monster… that kissed me. A monster that felt human emotions. A monster which does not qualify as a monster because he was acting upon others’ needs and not selfish reasons. A monster who represents “justice”.  _ This is giving even  _ me _ a headache… _ I groaned internally, when Light leaned close to me. “Your face is still red, Sapphire,” he whispered in my ear. “It never was the hot chocolate, was it?” I saw a smirk grow across his face. 

“I-I don’t know what you mean by that!” I exclaimed at I felt my face heat up. 

A spark danced in his eyes. “You can’t lie to me, Kimi,” he said silkily.  _ That voice… it’s practically hypnotic. This must be how he gets on everyone’s good side, isn’t it? I still have so much to learn about him… to think I had the upper hand here was naïve.  _

“Stupid… embarrassing… dream,” I muttered. How is one supposed to lie to this—is he human?— _ thing _ ? 

Light seemed intrigued, but he didn't press the matter.  _ At least he knows how to respect personal space _ , I thought wryly. Instead of trying to wheedle me, he enveloped me in a hug. 

“Uh, what’re you doing?” I asked softly. 

He sent me a smile—a warm one, unlike the manipulative one that spread across his face like honey that I'd seen in that nightmare. “It's called a hug, silly,”

I choked out a sob at the memory. The first time I met him. My eyes stung.  _ No, no crying _ , I chided myself. Truly, this Light was a wonderful person.

* * *

Time passed, and my bond with Light grew stronger. By the time we were in third grade, people never regarded one where the other didn't tag along. 

I was too attached to a future serial killer.  _ No, not if I prevent the Death Note from ever coming into contact with him. But then it could get into the wrong hands, and someone could use it for less than ideal purposes—wait, so does that mean I think Light's actions were reasonable? _ Once again, I found myself torn between two notions of justice.  _ I swear, it makes me want to rip my head off.  _

“Kimi,” Light said, jolting me back to reality. 

“Light.” I responded, looking away, but he turned my head back to face him. 

“Kimi.” he repeated. “What's with you and spacing out? I mean, I've literally known you my whole life and you seem to space out like this practically every day.” 

_ Am I that obvious? _ I wondered. 

“Yeah, you are.” Light said out of the blue. 

_ Did I say that out loud? _

“Yes, you did.”

“Oh. Oops.” I scratched the back of my neck, laughing nervously. “C’mon, Coffee, let's go eat lunch.” 

At home, I tried to think about normal stuff instead of the (possibly) inevitable future. Of course, that made me wonder:  _ What if the plotline of Death Note was  _ actually _ fictional? There may be a universal in which the characters exist, but what if the notebook and Shinigami themselves don't exist? There may not be a notebook that falls in the courtyard of Daikoku Private Academy on November 18 _ _ th _ _ , 2003. There may not be a “Ryuk” or a “Rem” or a “Gelus” or a “Sidoh”. There not be a Death Note. Because there was certainly no girl named Kimiko Yamada who was in the original story. _ That relaxed me. The thought that a normal life could exist for my best friend. Light was the sole person I depended on to keep me sane.  _ What does it say about me if the person keeping  _ me _ sane is liable to go insane  _ himself _? _

Oh, how I wished the Death Note was not real. 

Now, you may have noticed that I have not mentioned my father in this story. He and Mom don't really get along. After he lost his job a month ago, he'd started getting grumpy; lashing out at whatever he could. He would hit the walls, the furniture, he would snap pencils and smash plates with force that we attributed to stress.  _ He's in a poor state, sweetie _ , Mom would say.  _ He directs his blows onto inanimate objects to vent.  _

Never had I expected one of those blows to be aimed at me. 

I had just gotten back from school to see him lounging on the couch with a cigarette in his mouth. “Dad!” I exclaimed, horrified. “You'll get lung cancer like that!” I shouted. “You can't smoke, it'll kill you!” 

His nostrils flared and his eyes widened dangerously. “A child shouldn't be bossing around her father.” he said in an eerily quiet voice. He leaned closer. The rancid stench of his breath was one I immediately recognised: alcohol. My father was becoming like one of those cliché alcoholic drunkards who beat up his child. I shivered. “Kimiko,” he continued, “have you no respect for your elders?”

I set my jaw. “My respect and concern for you is what is making me advise you against alcohol and cigarettes. You will die an early death, and what will become—” I was cut off by a loud cracking sound and a sharp sting on my right cheek. 

He had slapped me. “If you do not know how to talk to your elders, enforcement of discipline is in order.”

“Discipline, my foot. You have been reduced to nothing thanks to those cigarettes and alcohol! I am  _ ashamed _ to call you my father. Mom has been working herself to the bone trying to cover the expenses, and you blow it all on unnecessary things like this! We barely have enough money to support this family, and here you are, lazing on the couch, not even bothering to apply for a job!” I shouted. It felt good to yell at him for what he’d done. It was all true. Mom had been leaving at five in the morning and coming back at eleven at night working at a candy shop in the mall, and giving private tuitions for students. She was becoming almost as pale as I was, she’d been losing excessive amounts of weight, and her face was gaunt, her cheeks hollow. White spots danced under her nails due to a lack of nourishment, but she was pulling through. My eyes hardened and I stared at him, unfeeling. “I don’t think you  _ deserve _ a woman like her. It would be better off if you continued like this; at least you’d die early and that would fix the hole in the dam. I could pick up a part time job, maybe sell lemonade or something.” I should have felt guilty after saying such a thing to my father.

I didn’t.

He loomed over me, the alcoholic stench of his breath clouding my head. My heart pounded against my ribs as fear built up inside me. The man whom I once addressed as “Dad” slowly unlooped his belt. My throat tightened as my mind came up with a thousand scenarios of what could happen next. He wrapped the worn, brown strip of hard leather around his knuckles. My eyes widened in realisation. A second too late.

The belt struck my bare shoulder, leaving a pink stripe amongst the near-white skin. The  _ crack _ of the lash and pain combined didn't register until a second later. The pain rippled out like a barbed wire scraping along, leaving gashes which poured out a thick crimson liquid. How desperate I was for it to be cranberry juice. Yet the liquid was alien yet all too familiar—blood. 

I coughed a mixture of phlegm and blood, spraying the hardwood floor with red slime. Another lash. “Sorry,” I gasped, knowing it was the only way to spare myself. The word brought bile to my mouth, which I swallowed down. 

The monster in front of me put his belt back on and shot me a look that said,  _ You better be. I hope you learned your lesson. I will not hesitate to repeat this process.  _ I backed away.  _ I wish he would die already. He deserves it, this is child abuse! _ Then I realised that, once again, that was a Pro-Kira statement. 

The next day, Light was curious about the bluish-black mark on my cheek. 

“I got hurt,” was all I said. I didn't elaborate, and he didn't press the matter. But then, Light was Candor when it came to seeing through my lies. I couldn't get a thing past him. 

However, the beatings became a regular practice for my father. Whenever my mother was out—in other words, all the time I was awake at home—he would lash out, releasing a monster, a side of insanity that shouldn't exist. 

It brought out a side of  _ me _ that shouldn't exist. A side that was bloodthirsty, one that longed for the death of a cruel heart such as his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Happy April Fool's! The dream idea was a wonderful coincidence for today!


	5. I Really Have the Worst Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An abrupt change awaits Kimiko... can she handle it? Or will she crack under the stress? And how does Light react to finding out about Hayato's recent actions?

Light’s hand gripped mine tightly as I stared at the grey stone in front of me. 

_ Chiyoko Yamada _

_ 7 _ _ th _ _ May 1957—16 _ _ th _ _ July 1999 _

I waited for the tears to come, waited for the stinging behind my eyes. It never came. All I felt was an inexplicable numbness. Perhaps it was because the grief was too strong. Perhaps it was because after being dead myself, I didn't think that death was too bad. Perhaps it was because I never really saw her as my mother because I remembered a different mother in my past life. Perhaps it was because the pain I was forced through every day at the hands of my deranged father was greater than grief, because even then, my side was aching from the fresh bruise placed there that very morning. Perhaps it was because I was tired of it all. Perhaps it was because I was so weary I was incapable of  _ feeling _ , period. 

I felt nothing.

Light put his arm around me. I might add, at the age of thirteen, the gesture probably should have been awkward, but due to our closeness, it didn't matter. I sat down in front of the gravestone, staring at it but not really seeing it. I was in a world between the living and the dead, my vision bleary from lack of sleep, and my eyes probably looked more tired than L’s. Wait, that couldn't be possible. Okay, almost as bad. 

“Kimiko?” Light whispered hoarsely. He  _ never _ used my real name unless it was serious. Of course, this  _ was _ serious. My mother just  _ died _ . “Kimiko… I…”

“Just… don’t say anything, Light.” I was surprised my voice came out steady. I leant back, using the gravestone as a backrest and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to be left alone at home with Hayato Yamada, the jobless, gambling, drunk smoker. 

Light kept quiet, but he sat down next to me, sharing a comfort that words were not needed to express. “You can come to my place for a while, if you want,” he said softly. 

“Okay.”

We spent a couple of hours just sitting in silence, when my father walked up. His eyes were red and puffy, and it struck me as odd that he’d been crying with grief. This was, after all, a heartless monster. Something in me hardened. 

“What do you want, Hayato?” I asked, referring to him by his first name. I was no longer obliged to call this man my father. I felt Light’s astonished gaze on me.

His face contorted into an ugly sneer. “We’re going home.”

I met his angry reddened eyes with my cold blue ones, my gaze unwavering. “No.”

“Kimiko. We  _ are _ leaving.” he growled. 

“No. I am going to Light’s house until dinnertime. I will see you at precisely 7:15pm.” I said, standing up. “Come on, Light.”

After quickly fumbling his way through a polite goodbye to my father—no, to  _ Hayato— _ Light and I left for the treehouse we’d built a few years ago. 

“Are you all right?” Light asked me when we got there. 

I sighed as I sat down on the edge of the blanket, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t say, really. I should be overwhelmed with grief, but really, I’m not. It’s weird. I mean, I miss her and all, but it doesn’t feel like she’s really gone, and I know I can’t count on D— _ Hayato _ to survive. I know she’s gone, but it still doesn’t feel like it. It’s a lost cause. I… I don’t know… I feel like someone’s replaced my heart with a rock. I’m not happy, I’m not grieved, I’m not scared, I’m not… anything.” I stood up and stretched. Bad idea. When I did, my shirt rode up, permitting Light to see the bruise from this morning. 

“Kimiko… how did that happen?” Light asked suspiciously. My throat tightened as I tried to think of an appropriate scenario. 

_ Come on, think! _ “I… rolled off the bed this morning, and I fell on my hairbrush which was on the floor…” I said desperately. Needless to say, Light didn’t buy it. 

Instead of responding, he grabbed my wrist, making me wince with pain from my last beating. Of course he noticed. Pulling me closer, he pushed back the sleeve of my jacket. “I find it odd that you’d wear a jacket in the middle of summer,” he said, and looked at my arm. Instead of being pale peach, my skin was mostly red or purple-ish blue. Stripes like a tiger’s were carved into my arm from the belt I was regularly whipped with. I waited for Light to recoil, to pull away. I wouldn’t have blamed him.

But he didn’t. He just stared.

“Kimiko Yamada,  _ what happened _ ?” he said, his voice eerily quiet, like the calm before a storm.

“I, um…” Wasn’t it just my luck that words failed me at that very moment? I took a deep breath. “Ever since Hayato”—I made sure that I didn’t say  _ Dad _ —“lost his job, he started getting sudden fits of anger.” I opened my mouth to continue, but Light raised a hand in a  _ stop _ gesture.

“He lost his job five and a half years ago.” he said skeptically, when his eyes widened in the realisation that it had been going on that long and I hadn’t said a thing. And more so that he hadn’t noticed. 

“For the first three or four months, he’d vent on inanimate objects. Doors, tables, chairs, bedframes, et cetera. That was when he started both drinking and smoking. The day I found out… I confronted him immediately, and he flipped a switch. He slapped me, and then he took off his belt and…” I stopped to regain my composure, to see a vicious glint in Light’s eyes. I could immediately understand what he was thinking—of course, he was mistaken. “He wrapped it around his fist, and then he lashed out…. The day after that was when you first asked about the bruise on my cheek. It’s been going on since then, yes, but he would usually stick to beating me where it could be hidden with a jacket or such. He’d say stuff like, ‘This is for your own good’ and then he’d hit me.” I winced at how clear the memories were in my head. 

The murderous glint in Light’s eyes grew to a murderous sparkle, and his eyes momentarily flashed crimson. My eyes widened in horror to see that I had finally lit the spark. The spark of Kira.  _ Please, let it all be fiction. I don’t want a Shinigami coming in and ruining everything. If Light doesn’t have the power to act, he won’t do anything.  _ “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. 

I winced. Please refer to the earlier notion of lighting the spark for my reason. Instead, I said, “I… I was dealing with it. I didn’t feel the need.” 

Light’s trained senses scrutinised my words. “You’re lying,” he declared. He used the tips of his fingers to lift my head upwards to face him. “Tell me the truth. Please, Kimi.”

I took a deep breath. I’d tell him part of it, at least. “He…” I inhaled again. “He threatened that if I told anyone… it would get worse,” I choked out.  _ At least that was true _ , I thought uneasily. “I know… it was stupid… but I don’t… I don’t like feeling… weak. Telling, making it worse for me, it would make me feel… weak. Dependent.” I mumbled. As I said it, I knew it was true. My arrogance prevented me from trying to save myself. 

Light sighed, probably thinking that deciding to be my friend was a grave mistake. Instead, he pulled me into a hug.  _ He smells like rosewood… the scent of rosewood is known to release calming chemicals in the human body… how coincidental. Still, rosewood is a rather uncommon choice. But it smells good. _ “Kimi, if  _ anything _ like this happens… I’ll have to tell my father.”

I frowned. “But no matter what we say, until and unless he pleads guilty, our word means nothing. That isn’t going to happen. I’ll lay low; give him what he wants. At the rate he’s going, I wouldn’t be surprised if he dies in a couple of months. Either way, when I’m old enough, I can move into my own house and not worry about him.” 

“Kimi, that'll be when you're  _ twenty _ . You can't live like that for seven more years.” Light insisted. 

“But if I tell, I'm leaving myself more vulnerable. I don't know how far he's willing to go, and I'd rather not find out.” I argued. 

Light nodded in acknowledgment. “Still, be careful. I can't see you get hurt.” he said. I smiled wryly, thinking about the bruise on my side. 

I closed my eyes. “Yeah.”  _ People are layers and layers of secrets. You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them. _ I remembered reading that somewhere as Sienna, and it had never felt more true than at that moment. Each time I thought I had figured Light Yagami out, he showed me something in him that I'd never seen before.  _ A riddle wrapped in an enigma. That's what you are _ . I thought. I knew I'd never fully understand him, so how was I supposed to clear his head of impure motives when I had no idea how? I thought I had him by reading about him in a comic book. But I was so far off. Even after spending thirteen years with him, he still befuddled me. 

At the age of thirteen, however, Light’s desire to protect me came to another level, and, considering that he was willing to fatally wound people for me before, that was truly saying something. The guy wouldn’t let me walk around the neighbourhood alone at night because _you never know what kinds of people will jump you_ _there_. Which was exactly why he would insist on walking me to my house. _But honestly, the streets at night are probably safer, because there’s a larger possibility that people won’t jump you, whereas there’s the definite occurrence of Hayato beating me up._ I didn’t want to bring it up, though, because Light would definitely change his mind about keeping quiet about the whole situation. 

Hayato answered the door. It took all my self control to not stand in front of Light to protect him from the abominable creation in front of us. Instead, Light pulled me closer to him, as if to protect  _ me _ . The thought made my cheeks tingle. 

Hayato was actually well-dressed, for once. Instead of lounging around in shorts and an undershirt, he was actually dressed in his trousers and a shirt. I was surprised; I’d been so used to the wild animal, I’d forgotten he had any shame. Oh, did I mention he started gambling? There was that to deal with as well.  _ I’m going to have to find some way to earn some money _ , I thought, my mouth going dry. I was only able to stay ahead of everyone in class because I'd been able to study ahead since I'd learnt everything until eighth grade, so for the stuff beyond, I would learn ahead, thanks to the help of an online college syllabus. As for how I enrolled… long story. Don’t ask. All I’m allowed to tell you is that it involved a lot of hacking. It was the only way I could keep up with Light. Because, in reality, I was still a person with an average intelligence, only ahead because I worked hard. Wait, I’m veering off topic again, aren’t I? So, Hayato opened the door, and Light did next to nothing to conceal his disgust after seeing his face. Thankfully, Hayato didn’t notice, but I, knowing Light well, was able to see the spark of hatred in his eyes, and the tightness in his smile that could only mean it was forced. For a second, I was afraid Light would confront him, or say something, but I quickly realised that that fear was irrational. Light was smarter than that. 

“I’ll see you at school,” Light said, clearly hesitant to leave. His eyes narrowed at Hayato for a fraction of a second, but the movement was so subtle, I could have been imagining it. With that, the sole person I had come to depend upon left. 

“Come in.” Hayato said, his voice scratchy. Had he really been crying? Grieving over the woman whom he had indirectly killed? My eyes hardened as I followed him through the front door. The thought almost made me retch. “I’m a jerk,” he said, surprising me.  _ He’s admitting—?! _

A spark of hope lit up inside me, hope that longed for the man my father used to be. The one who’d pull me onto his shoulders and run through the park with me until I was eight. The one who’d push the swings as I’d squeal, “Higher!” The one who helped me make a gingerbread house when I was in second grade. The one who let me stuff random hairclips in his hair and laugh at my silly jokes and stories. The one who’d tease me playfully about not eating ketchup and wave the bottle in front of my face as I’d shriek to get away from the putrid sauce. The one who’d always help me with my homework when I needed it. The one who’d pick me up as I’d fall when I couldn’t get up. The one who’d encourage me to get up on my own because he knew I was capable of it. The one who was actually a father. 

“Light found out.” he stated bluntly. He arched an eyebrow at me, as if to ask sarcastically who’d gone and told the brunette. 

“He’s a naturally perceptive person,” I said cautiously. He was calm, and I didn’t want to ruin that. “He saw the bruise on my side, and figured it out on his own. I told him not to tell his father, but he said that if it happens again, he’ll tell. I think—I think he was trying to tell me to work things out, perhaps bring things to the way they used to be.” I wasn’t sure how much of that I’d actually unpinned from Light’s words and behaviour, and how much was me wishing for that to be the case, because that spark—that tiny spark—it refused to be stifled.  _ Though hope is frail, it’s hard to kill _ . 

“Ah. You should go to bed. You do have school tomorrow.” he said curtly. 

_ Since when did you care? _ I almost said aloud. Thankfully, I caught myself. That’s when it hit me. I sniffed again, just to check. Indeed, I was correct. 

The stench of alcohol and cigarettes had vanished. 

My mother’s death had sobered my father. That much I was sure of. 

The next day, I told Light that he'd stopped. Light seemed surprised, but told me to stay cautious of Hayato. 

He was right to do so. 

About two weeks after stopping, the beatings started again.  _ If I tell Light _ , I thought numbly,  _ he'll go into Kira-Mode again.  _ I  _ had _ to prevent that. 

So I dealt with the pain silently. 


	6. My Only Friend is Gonna Be a Psychopath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, the Death Note finally comes into play. How will this affect Kimiko, or, more importantly, how will it affect Light?

_ November twenty-seventh, 2003. _ _ One day before Light Yagami receives the Death Note _ , I thought sullenly. Fictitious in my previous dimension. Possibly real in this one. However, I'd never caught wind of any inexplicable heart attacks that could be the work of a Shinigami. Either they were lazier than I remember Ryuk describing, or they've been stealthy with their kills. The latter was highly unlikely, considering Sidoh hadn't noticed that Ryuk had stolen his Death Note until six years later. Or, everything I read in the manga and watched in the anime was truly fictitious. Then again, me being the embodiment of bad luck, it was improbable that I'd get my way. I banged my head on the desk as the math teacher whose name I'd never bothered to remember—we all called him Python, because of his snakelike eyes, snippy tone, and for some reason the name “Python” made people think of Pythagoras’ theorem—droned on about terms I'd learned years ago. 

“Yamada, would you like to explain, seeing as you have clearly no interest in listening?” Python snipped. 

I smirked. Python was still new, so he was still trying to grasp at my vast expanse of knowledge.  _ Bad move, Snake _ . “Sure, why not?” 

While Light played the goodie-two-shoes to get on the teachers’ good sides, I made no effort to conceal my boredom or dissatisfaction with their teaching. I mean, if you don't address the problem, it isn't going to get better, is it? So I explained the whole chapter in about seven minutes tops, and I'm pretty sure the class actually understood it ten times better. I shot Python one last smirk before taking my seat. 

Flustered, he mumbled, “Okay, class dismissed,” so we headed off to English. 

Once again, I zoned out. English had been my mother tongue last time, and our teacher knew that I was far from lacking in the subject, so I could easily catch a nap as he turned a blind eye. 

However, I was awoken with a strikingly familiar speech. 

“...translate the following sentence into Japanese?”

“Follow the teachings of God and receive his blessings, and so it shall be that seas will again become bountiful, and the raging storms will subside.” Light said, bored. 

Cue the panic attack. 

Anyway, Light was probably jealous that I got a free nap pass in English. He may have been a natural genius, but his English could never top mine. That much I knew. I'd had twenty-nine years worth learning English. Light had had merely seventeen. I wondered if that made me—mentally—older than Light. Mentally, yeah. Physically, not so much. 

Either way, I spent the rest of the day fretting.  _ What I wouldn't give to have my mangas with me _ , I thought, my fingers itching for the inked paper.  _ Heck, even the anime’s fine with me.  _ It had been years since I'd read the thing, but despite the story having been etched into my mind and scripted in my heart, memory alone seemed like an insufficient reference. Well, then again, what choice did I have?

On the way home, two homicides were reported—the same two as in the story. A drunk wave of dizziness passed over me, causing me to stumble. I'd probably have fallen onto the road and got run over if Light hadn't caught me. 

Thank goodness I had Light Yagami by my side, right?

But still, it was scary how acutely I was able to remember each detail. Now I get what my friends meant when they said that I was obsessive.  _ My friends _ . Anna. Christie. Louis. I felt a sharp  _ pang _ in my chest when I thought of them. And I was ashamed, because seventeen years had passed, and I hadn't spared them so much as a thought. How had they fared since my death? Had all three shown up at my funeral? Had Anna clung to Louis as she always had when we were little, as she sobbed into his shirt? Was Christie still putting up her ‘tough façade’ or had she allowed herself to show some weakness? Did Louis hold the hand of my dead body as a tear rolled down his cheek? Did they hold on to each other because that were all they had left, or had they disbanded? Had they moved on? Forgotten me? Because I'd certainly forgotten  _ them _ up till this point. And the guilt was killing me. It would scar me, plague my nightmares, rip my soul out, because I'd neglected my dearest companions. It would kill me from the inside out. 

Needless to say, it was impossible for me to sleep that night, what with anticipation for the next day and the newfound guilt of neglecting my old friends.  _ What good is grieving going to do you? _ chastised some cold part of my heart.  _ Then again, I'd be pretty disappointed if my friends didn't grieve for me _ , a more compassionate side argued. 

Eventually, I gave up rational reasoning and fell asleep. 

Finally, the big day had arrived. The day the fate of the world depended on. Were murder notebooks and death gods real? Would one of the aforementioned notebooks fall into the yard of Daikoku Private Academy? I would have to find out. 

Biology. I didn't care to listen. Instead, I sat in my usual seat, behind Light, and stared out the window, waiting for a certain black notebook to fall from the sky. The period was almost over, and relief was beginning to flow through my blood vessels, when all that hope was crushed. Like an ant, after the metaphorical ant had just made it back to the colony and felt its life was saved, only for the entire anthill to be demolished by some stupid child’s tricycle. I really was starting to hate this metaphorical child. Stupid kid, not valuing ants’ lives. I wanted to strangle this kid. Then again, I was the dead ant, so I couldn't do anything. Karma, you have my full permission to take charge. Ah, I'm veering off topic again, aren't I? 

Where was I? Yeah, Death Note fell, period ended. Light saw, cue apocalyptic music. Humanity was dead as we knew it. Three cheers for Kira, God of the New World. Hooray. 

I ran outside at top speed, not waiting for Light like I usually did. But, damn it all, he still got there before I did. And that damned fool was leaning over the Death Note. “Don't touch that!” I yelled, attracting several stares, and Light reflexively raised his hands in defence.  _ He didn't touch it _ , I thought, relieved. I was pretty sure that Ryuk said that he'd have to kill the first person to touch the notebook. “Light, let's go.” I said firmly. 

“Wait,” he interjected, “I left my history book in my locker. You go on ahead. I'll see you at dinner, okay? See you, Sapphire,” he said, winking at me, eliciting gasps from several girls around me, and glares from the rest. How many times did I have to tell them that there was nothing romantic between Light and I?

Stupid me for trusting him. I agreed, and went home, thinking about my score on the practice exams. Third place nationwide. Of course, I couldn't beat Light, but I'd been hoping for second place. I sighed as I got home, turning on the television. Kurou Otoharada had made a reappearance. I gritted my teeth seeing the guy who'd held a gun to my head fourteen years ago. He was back at hurting kindergarteners. My upper lip curled in disgust. I had several words in mind that I wanted to call him, all of which would have to be censored (because editor-chan [AKA EmeraldHeart12] has this thing against curse words). 

“ _ What’s this…?! The hostages are coming out! _ ” the voice came through. 

My heart stopped. (Oh, the irony.)  _ Light must’ve gone back to take the Death Note when he told me to go ahead! _ I knew I had to stop him, of course, but what were the odds he’d kill me if he found out I knew? Considering how he was willing to put his family on the line for this, the odds that he wouldn’t do the same to his best friend  _ weren’t _ in my favour. If I was to talk some sense into him, it would have to be today. Today, when he doubts himself most about killing people. But if his resolve failed to waver… I would be as good as dead. 

There was no doubt that he would kill me.

Just then, my alarm rang.  _ Cram school _ , I reminded myself. Hayato wasn’t home; he’d finally gotten a job, and he was on a business trip for the week. I trudged to cram school alone for the first time. It was boring, without Light beside me, asking how my day was, if Hayato was still hurting me, laughing over petty things, and passing witty comments. That Light would soon be gone if I couldn’t save him. But… I remembered when Otoharada had held the gun barrel to my head. I couldn’t say I was as upset that he died as I claimed to be. The thought that I was so indifferent to a man’s death repulsed me. 

Light wasn’t focusing in cram either, and he didn’t even see the note I slipped him— _ Meet me at the treehouse afterwards _ —until the teacher threw a piece of chalk at him. 

After cram school, I was walking along the street, passing the bookshop to get past, where Light was not waiting. I remembered him going in only after the woman was surrounded, but there was a chance he took a different route to the treehouse. He wouldn’t brush me off like that, at least not without warning, so I turned and exited the bookstore. 

Or, I tried to exit. 

Is that as bad as it sounds? Yeah, it was. The second I’d walked out into the street, Takuo Shibuimaru and his gang surrounded  _ me _ . 

“Hey, girlie!” Shibuimaru’s revolting voice called out.  _ I am a goner. _ “How ’bout havin’ some fun with me tonight?”

“How ’bout I rip your throat out?” I growled. 

“Hey, Taku, she’s a feisty one. You got good taste, man,” one of his lackeys laughed.  _ Damn it, I'll have to rely on hand-to-hand combat if I'm going to get out of this situation _ , I noted.  _ But it's five against one, even if I manage to get Shibuimaru, his lackeys will chase me.  _ My eyes widened in the realisation that I would not leave this place unscathed. 

“My name’s Takuo Shibuimaru, that's Shibutaku for short, heh heh…” Shibuimaru said, lowering his sunglasses. 

“Taku’s usual come-on,” said the first lackey. 

“Well, it  _ is  _ his real name,” countered a second. 

I tried to uphold the stubborn persona. “I don't think so,” I said in a low voice. Hopefully at most I could convince them to leave me alone with a clever use of vocabulary. 

“She doesn't think so, dude!” the first lackey exclaimed. 

“Aww, come on,” he tried again. 

I glared at Shibuimaru. “Nope,” I said, and punched him in the throat, giving me a short head start. It was all I had. I knew his lackeys would shake off their initial shock quickly, so I ran like the wind. 

“She got away!” the second lackey screeched. 

“Hey girlie, I got wheels, remember?” Shibuimaru called out after me.  _ Not if I'm on a pavement, and they can't possibly outrun me.  _

That was when I heard tyres on my left. 

“Taku, watch out!”

Takuo Shibuimaru had been hit by a truck. Just like in the story. 

I didn't see when his lackeys fled. I didn't see when I fell to the floor. I didn't see when someone vaguely familiar rushed out of the bookstore and picked up my shaking frame. I didn’t care who it was—the horror of what had almost happened to me struck me like an arrow—but I curled my fingers into his or her shirt, and squeezed my eyes shut to get the picture of Shibuimaru’s mangled corpse out of my head. 

“It’s okay, Kimi,” the person who picked me up said. I was too shaken to put my finger on whose voice it was, but only one person in the world called me ‘Kimi.’ Light. I pulled myself closer to him, knowing it was the guy who held my utmost, unwavering trust, and sobbed into his shirt. “Come on,” he said soothingly, and he probably said more, but I felt like someone had jammed my head underwater—I was unable to distinguish one sound from another, and my vision was blurry. 

“Light” was all I was able to say before I was out cold. 

When I came to, Light was leaning over me, his eyebrows furrowed—worry—but there was a lack of confidence beneath his coffee eyes.  _ Of course he's feeling weak _ , I scolded myself,  _ he's just killed two people and his best friend was almost sexually assaulted in front of him _ . “Are you all right?” I asked him. 

He laughed, but it was painstakingly obvious how forced it was. “After the situation  _ you _ were in, you're asking me if  _ I'm  _ all right?” his voice was unbroken, but still shaky. 

“‘You never know what kinds of people will jump you there.’” I murmured, parroting what Light had repeatedly told me when we were thirteen up till when we were fifteen. “Didn't take it seriously till now,” I admitted. 

“I'm just glad you're okay,” Light sighed. “Let's hope this can be something we both can forget.”

I placed my first two fingers on Light’s wrist. “ _ I'm  _ fine, thanks to you,” I said softly, “but  _ you  _ certainly don't look fine. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Light let out something between a mumble and a whimper. “I know,” he said, “I'm worried about you, Kimi. If I were to lose you… I don't think I could handle it. You can't be so reckless.” Suddenly, I didn't care so much about the notebook. Using it, Light had both avenged an old grudge and he'd saved me from Shibuimaru. 

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” I asked gently. I knew I shouldn't press him, but I couldn't help it. 

Light laughed, but it held no humour. “There's too much I want to say, but each time I try to put it into words, my mind clouds up and the words evaporate on my tongue.”  _ So he isn't going to tell me about the Death Note _ , I noted. I tried not to feel hurt. 

But my objective was clear: openly, my opinion on Kira was conflicted, but while I wasn't going to help Kira, I certainly wouldn't do anything to stop him. My role was to keep the power of the Death Note from corrupting my friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated, but am I the only one who gets seriously annoyed with the fact that when you use italicised text before non-italicised punctuation, there appears to be a space between the text and punctuation?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How harmful could watching Finding Nemo be?  
> And how dangerous would it be for Kimiko when L challenges Kira?
> 
> The real battle's just beginning...

Right. I forgot that tiny little detail. One, yeah, Light was taller than me. Oh, you’re probably looking for what happened next, right? Well, Light and I were still as close as ever; he seemed to even be able to kill criminals without me noticing, even if I was right in front of him. On the fifth day—December 3rd, I remembered that Ryuk was to show up. If I was _there_ , and Ryuk saw me, things would only go downhill from there. So I decided that I’d go in after nine. Until then, I received several dozen text messages—all probably from Light; Hayato wouldn’t care enough to check up on me—eight missed calls, and eleven emails. I really couldn’t be bothered to answer any of them, partially because my phone was in my jacket pocket and I was too lazy to get it, and partially because I really didn’t feel like talking to Light. You probably want to tell me off about leaving him at the mercy of a Shinigami and a murder weapon, but really, what was I supposed to do? Hang around him and tell him “Remember, just because half the world is your hostage, you aren't all-powerful!” while he wrote names in the Death Note?

That was when my room door opened. I stared at it suspiciously; Hayato wasn't to come back until Wednesday. When I saw who it was—Light—I ducked under the duvet and sighed. “Go away,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the layer of cloth on my face.

“K-Kimi?” Light stuttered. Wait— _stuttered_ ?! Light Yagami _never_ stuttered. I shot off the bed, to see him shaking almost unnoticeably.

“You look like you've seen a death god,” I said without thinking. Oops. Well, his reaction only confirmed it: his eyes blew wide, his pupils dilated, and his head shot up to look at me. “You need some rest. Come on, lie down. I'll get something to drink and eat.”

Light sat on the edge of my bed, unmoving. Only after I had closed the door did I hear his hushed voice. Probably talking to Ryuk. I sighed as I quickly brewed a hazelnut latte and opened a box of chocolate chip cookies. The only way he’d tell me about the Death Note, I supposed, was for me to find out on my own.

I pushed the door open with my elbow. “Were you talking to someone up here?” I asked nonchalantly.

Light met my gaze with a questioning expression. I'd have been convinced if I hadn't known the truth. “No, why?”

“Must've been my imagination,” I said tiredly. “We've got cram in an hour. What do you want to do until then?”

“Kimi,” Light said, completely ignoring my question. “What do you think of Kira?”

I sighed. “Well, in all honesty, my opinion’s conflicted. He is managing to get rid of criminals, and I get his motives. I mean, if criminals know that committing crimes will be punishable by death, the ones who try will die, and the others would be too scared to. Violent crime rates will drop to nothing. But, like anyone else, I am prejudiced against taking lives. Then again, even government officials do resort to capital punishment, and no one holds anything against them. Well, the only thing I actually have against Kira’s killing criminals is that it'll affect his mental health. If he starts believing that _he_ was specifically chosen to kill criminals, he’ll feel like no one else could've done it; that no one else had the heart to. He’ll start thinking that he's the only one that can do it, and develop a superior mentality. Which could eventually develop into a God complex. If Kira starts believing he's God, he's already spelling out his demise. Remember what I said in kindergarten? ‘I dislike contumelious, Machiavellianistic, autotheistic, self-righteous megalomaniacs who abuse power.’ If Kira develops the God complex, that's autotheistic and megalomaniacal, if he starts killing innocents, he's abusing power, and if he twists others’ motives to get what he wants, he's self-righteous, contumelious and Machiavellianistic.”

“Wow. I'm surprised you managed to relate that to this.” Light commented offhandedly. What he didn't know, of course, was that the whole reason I'd said that was because of this situation.

“I have my ways. But there's one more thing: by killing criminals, Kira himself becomes a murderer. Is he really much better than those he kills? It seems kind of hypocritical to me. Anyway,” I added, sending him a sideways glance, “I bet I can still kick your butt at Mario Kart,” I smirked.

“Wanna bet, Sapphire?”

“You're on, Coffee.” _More like Crimson._

When Light excused himself to use the toilet, I took my chances. “Ryuk, want to play a round of Mario Kart? I'll give you an apple a day if you don't tell Light I know about you and the Death Note. The thing is, I can't see you, since I haven't touched your notebook. Pass me a piece of paper from Light’s Death Note after he's asleep tonight. Click ‘start game’ for yes. Throw my pillow on the floor for no.”

Ryuk must've liked the idea, or found it interesting, to say the least, because the game started. Two and a half laps in, Light must've come back in the room, because I heard a choking noise that certainly wasn't me.

“Kimi, _who_ is playing as player two?” Light demanded upon looking at the screen, knowing I couldn't see Ryuk, but he could, and Ryuk was playing against me.

I pulled together a confused expression. “I'm playing against the computer. Are you okay?” I asked innocently.

Light blinked in confusion, but didn't press the matter. That's one of the things I liked about him; he wouldn't force you to say anything you didn't want to. Still, I knew he knew I wasn't playing against the computer; he could see Ryuk playing.

That night, I was up until two waiting for that stupid Shinigami. In fact, I was on the verge of falling asleep when I saw a small fragment of paper fall onto my lap. I poked it.

The next thing I knew, there was a large _creature_ towering over me. Its head was as big as my abdomen, and it was blue-ish grey, the skin wrinkled as a prune. It had bulging eyes with yellow sclerae, red irises and no pupil. It had spiky blue-black hair that stood up on its own, and blue lips that _literally_ stretched in an ear to ear grin, masking sharp, uneven teeth. Its posture was slouched, and it had long arms that hung past its knees, and slightly bent legs. It was swathed in a black leather-like material, and metal rings on the collarbone—or what I presumed to be the collarbone—attached its attire to its body. It had a silver heart earring dangling from its right ear, and a belt with a skull on the front, holding a holster with a black notebook in it, next to which was a stick that looked like a bone—probably a Shinigami pencil. Its wings were outspread, black and almost feathery, making it look larger than it was.

“Hiya, Ryuk,” I said.

“How did you…?” Ryuk asked, baffled.

I yawned. “Simple. Even though you're a Shinigami, you don't know the vaguest thing about human death, do you? Souls _can_ be reincarnated. Here's my theory. There _is_ a Heaven and Hell. Just not many people go to it. To go to Heaven, a human must complete an extraordinarily good deed. To go to Hell, a human must do something extraordinarily horrible. Otherwise, there is a certain ‘nothingness’ that humans go to, where their souls wait to be reborn, so perhaps, eventually, they can go to either. My soul, having lived a lesser time, was reborn almost immediately. I believe, however, that my soul had a problem transferring to a new life. I say this because I remember my previous life, and my name was Sienna Mason. I know it was real because I remember that when I was first born here, I could still remember everything, and your whole dimension was part of a manga plot. _You_ are a manga character.” I said casually. “And I haven't told Light about this, and I forbid you to do so. If you comply, I'll give you an apple every day for the rest of my life, and you and I can both have a go at Light, just to have fun. Sound good?”

“Okay, Kimiko.” Ryuk said, and flew into the house next door. I settled back into my bed and slowly drifted into sleep.

The next day, I went over to Light’s place again after school. “A little birdie”—AKA a certain manga—“told me that there's an ICPO meeting today on the subject of Kira.” I announced. “Is your dad there?” I asked, flopping onto his bed.

“Yeah,” Light said, and stretched back in his chair. “Wanna go for a movie? I heard that there’s a pretty good Disney movie that they’re still airing. Cram school’s cancelled anyway, due to weather. I could do with a break.”

 _I'm not supposed to know he has the Death Note._ I scoffed, “A break from what? Judging from how tired you look, you pulled an all-nighter. And it certainly wasn't to study. What were you doing, practicing to try beat me at Mario Kart? We both know that'll never happen.” I smirked.

“Very funny, Sapphire. So, how about it? We don't really have to start studying for To-Oh yet, since the entrance exams are in mid-January.” Light said.

I shrugged in response. “Sure, why not? Hey, can I have something to eat?” I asked, just as my stomach rumbled.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

As I came up with a peach in my left hand, I asked, “Which Disney movie are you talking about?” There were multiple good Disney movies that came out in 2003. _Piglet’s Big Movie_ , _The Jungle Book 2_ , _Finding Nemo_ , and _Brother Bear_. It was probably either one of the latter half—

“Finding Nemo.” He said, interrupting my train of thought.

I brightened. _Finding Nemo_ had been one of my childhood favourites as Sienna. _I was going to see_ Finding Dory _the day I died…_ I thought wistfully. I’d have to wait for another thirteen years now. “All right!” I said, masking the disappointment in my tone perfectly. Well, Light didn’t question it.

“Hey, Light,” Ryuk called. He hadn’t made a sound since I’d arrived; I’d forgotten he was there. “Are you going to leave me here?” A loud crunching sound was emitted from behind me—Ryuk must’ve been eating an apple. I leaned back, winking at Ryuk. He picked up another apple in response.

“Light. Am I hallucinating, or is an apple floating there?” I asked, pouring a certain amount of timorousness and seriousness into my voice.

Light bought it. He swivelled around in the chair he was relaxing on and tensed as he saw Ryuk holding up an apple. He threw a harsh glare at Ryuk—one most would have failed to notice—before responding teasingly, “Probably the former, Sapphire. I mean, since when do _apples_ float?”

After a certain amount of chatter and Light (probably) sneaking in a few more names into the Death Note, we finally left for the cinema.

“I’m surprised they’re still airing _Finding Nemo_. It did come out in May, so the fact that it’s still in cinemas in December… it must be really successful.” Light said casually.

“I saw the trailer. It looks like a great movie.” I said, covering up for my eagerness to watch the movie I’d loved in my past life.

For whatever reason, the man behind the counter looked appraisingly at Light and I, and an amused smile crept across his face. I was too busy trying to decode his expression when Light said, “I'll pay.”

The man’s smile grew when I interjected, “No, I'll pay. Really,”

We both argued over who would pay for at least another minute before the people behind us started protesting, and Light ended up paying for the both of us.

I could've sworn I heard the man behind the counter say, “Ah, young love…”

“I'll get something to eat,” I said, trying to avoid the multiple pairs of eyes on me.

The lady at the popcorn stand shot me a smile and said, “A lot of people have their eyes on your boyfriend. Don't let him go, ‘kay? He's a keeper,” she winked as she took down my order for a large bucket of caramel popcorn and two chocolate sundaes.

“Our relationship is purely platonic.” I said, for about the millionth time.

“Oh,” she sighed, shaking her head, “you shouldn't keep it that way for long. You two would look _adorable_ together!”

“Um…” for once, I had no response. I felt my face heat up.

“Here's your order,” she said, winking at me once again as she passed me the tray.

I quickly thanked her and walked to Light. “You okay?” he asked. “That woman certainly seemed eager to talk to you,”

“Yeah. Just pointless small talk,” I said rushedly. In retrospect, I don't think he bought it. I wouldn't either.

“Mhmm. Let's go in,” he said. “You certainly seemed eager to see this movie.”

“Yeah, the trailer was pretty good,” I said coolly. “Come on!”

Okay, if you're reading this, I take it you've already seen Disney’s _Finding Nemo_. I'm not going to bore you with the details of the film.

After the film, there was a genuine smile on Light’s face. “Y’know, that _was_ a great movie,” he commented. “Even if it _was_ a children's film.” _I guess that relaxing can even release the stress of being Kira_ , I noted.

“I really can't even decide if Coral is dead, though. It isn't hard to fake a death if they don't show the body, but then again, it _is_ a kid's movie.” I commented offhandedly as we walked home. “Bye!” I called as we reached his house, and after he returned the greeting, I walked into mine.

I took a Fuji apple out from the refrigerator and washed it, leaving it on my bedside for Ryuk to take once Light was asleep. Yawning, I changed into my pyjamas and brushed my teeth, then promptly fell asleep.

I woke up feeling horrible. After trudging over to the cabinet in the kitchen, I checked my temperature: 101.4 degrees Fahrenheit. I groaned, and flopped back onto my bed, outstretching my arm to grab my phone. With my eyelids heavy, I managed to text Light and tell him I had a fever, so I wouldn't be at school. My phone buzzed immediately with a response, but I was fast asleep before I could check it.

I woke up again at about six in the evening, and turned on the television, only to see reruns of some anime. I was on the verge of falling asleep again when a voice came through.

“ _We are interrupting the program to bring you a live, globally televised broadcast from Interpol, with Japanese voiceover by interpreter Yoshio Anderson._ ”

 _Oh gods._ My eyes blew open, and I scrabbled for my phone, and hurriedly dialled Light. As expected, he didn't answer. He must've been caught up with the broadcast. _I'd be able to get there in time; he lives next door, but with the dizziness from my fever, I can't climb up to his balcony, and if I go in from the front door, his mom and Sayu will surely hold me up!_ I had to take it at face value: Light was already knee-deep into L’s first trap.

“ _I am Lind L. Tailor, more commonly known as ‘L’—the sole person able to mobilise police in every county worldwide._ ” Tailor announced. I tried Light's number again, but it didn't get through. “ _Criminals have been the target of a killing spree, which has turned into the biggest mass murder case in history._ ”

 _When he puts it like that_ , I realised, _It_ does _sound bad. I… I'm still torn between Kira and L._

“ _This monstrous crime must be stopped at all costs. ‘Kira’, as the perpetrator is commonly known,_ will _be caught. I guarantee it._ ” I could almost _hear_ Light yelling at the screen in house next to mine. “ _Kira. I've got a pretty good idea why you're doing this. But what you are doing…_ is evil _!_ _Police worldwide have launched a coordinated investigatio—_ ”

Lind L. Tailor was cut off with a heart attack. I groaned into my pillow after I swallowed another fever tablet.

“Moron. That's what Light is. A moron.” I muttered.

“ _I… I don't believe it…. This was an experiment to test a hunch I had, but I never really thought…_ ” the _real_ L’s synthetic voice trailed off. “ _Kira… you can actually kill people without direct contact…. So my hunch was right… I couldn't believe it until I saw it with my own eyes, but you can…_ ” I could practically see L smirking as he shook his head at his own words, triumphant. “ _You'd have to, of course. It didn't make sense otherwise._ ” L amended. “ _Listen to me, Kira. If you did in fact kill Lind L. Tailor, the man you saw on your T.V., he was a condemned criminal scheduled to die today, at this hour. That wasn't me. His arrest and conviction were kept secret from the media, and went unreported on the internet. Even you had no way of knowing that, it seems…_ ” L didn't finish the sentence. “But I, L, do in fact exist. _So come on, kill me if you can! What are you waiting for? Come on! Go ahead and kill me!_ ” L jeered, as I felt a smile that was unprecedented for climb across my face. This was the most emotion L ever showed in the whole series. “ _I'm still here. Can't do it, Kira? Evidently, you_ aren't _able to kill me. So there are people you can't kill. That's a valuable clue. Now I'll give_ you _some information in return. Although it was announced that this was televised globally… this was broadcast only in the Kanto region around Tokyo. The plan was to broadcast live to other areas in Japan in turn, but that's no longer necessary. You are in the Kanto region of Japan, Kira. And, although the police have missed this, your first victim was the Shinjuku killer who took eight people hostage in a nursery school. His crime, when compared to the notorious murderers who've died of heart attacks, was not very serious. Moreover, this case was reported only in Japan, nowhere else… that was all the information I needed. I knew, Kira, that you were in Japan! And that your first victim was nothing but a guinea pig for testing your powers! We broadcast first to Kanto because it has the largest regional population of the country. That you happened to be there was pure luck. I didn't expect this to work so perfectly according to plan, but… now, I dare say, it may not be so long before I am able to sentence you to death._ ” L announced firmly.

 _Wait, if he sentences Kira to death, how is he any better?_ I wondered. _This world is full of hypocrisy._ “ _Of course, it would interest me greatly to know_ how _you carry out your murders, but that's something I can find out_ after _I catch you. Till we meet again, Kira._ ” The screen went fuzzy for a second after L’s letter disappeared, but the evening news quickly filled in the screen.

 _Well_ , I thought, _this is where the battle begins._


	8. Stupid, Stupid People Are Driving Me Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimiko knew she wasn't in for an ordinary trip to Spaceland... but what twisted path is Fate making her walk?

Fifteen days later, Light woke me up with a phone call.

“Hey, Kimi,” he said.

“What do you want?” I groaned, making it sound more like a comment than a question.

“Is it illegal to invite my best friend to Spaceland on a Saturday?” he asked teasingly. _Already, huh?_

“Gee, I’d have thought that you'd already be familiar with Japan’s laws and all, considering the fact that you want to be a detective.” I deadpanned.

“Don't be a spoilsport. I'm coming to your place and dragging you with me no matter what state you're in, in exactly fifteen minutes.” I could hear Light laugh airily through the phone. That kind, supporting laugh that could make everyone around him smile.

I smirked. “Even if I'm in the shower?”

Light began to sputter incoherently after a certain amount of choking, giving me a minute to sever the connection. _Well, I don't think Light would want to catch me in the shower_ , I decided, and headed in the bathroom. I quickly dressed in a cerulean blue pleated skirt and a white turtleneck sweater, with white stockings and dark blue ballet flats. I threw on a fur-lined jacket, and pulled my hair back into a high ponytail.

Light opened the door to my room just as I pulled my hands out of my hair.

“Nice outfit,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “Now let’s go.”

I smiled. “Someone’s eager. I can't help but notice that you've been a lot more easygoing since the end of November.” I then heard something snap behind me, reflexively making me turn to where the sound came from. _It must have been that FBI agent, Raye Penber_ , I realised. _Shoot! How am I supposed to prevent his death? I'm not nearly involved enough with the main plot line! I can't afford for anyone to uncover my secret, especially Light or L! Light would threaten to kill me if I didn't give him L’s identity, and if I went to L, he'd keep me under lock and key if I didn't tell him who Kira is! Killing innocents will start turning Light into that insane, unfeeling megalomaniac, so… I can't reveal to Light that I know he's Kira, he'd kill me to keep me quiet. But if I were to see Ryuk… by accident, of course… no, it'd never work. He'd try convince me that I'm hallucinating. I'll just have to use my knowledge subtly and try talk him out of it. Not my favourite idea, but it's the best I've got. Besides—_

“... Kimiko!” Light said, apparently having addressed me several times before.

I stared at him, waiting for him to repeat himself.

“ _When_ are you going to get over your habit of spacing out?”

 _When your reign as a psychopathic mass murderer ends_ , I grouched internally. “You know me,” I said instead. “Probably better than I do, come to think of it,” I sighed, leaning against the pole behind me.

“You look tired,” Light commented.

“You seem to be better than I realised when it comes to stating the obvious. I couldn't sleep last night. This whole Kira versus L thing is getting to everyone. I couldn't help but notice—ah, the bus is here.” I cut myself off, not willing to take the conversation too far when not in a comfortable position. The metal pole was starting to hurt my back. Plus, I wanted to see Light get edgy to know what had seemed so painstakingly obvious to me.

After getting on the bus and sitting down comfortably, Light hinted, “You couldn't help but notice…?”

I wasn't willing to let my chance of teasing Light slip from my grasp so easily. “It isn't relevant. In fact, the only one who it's be relevant _to_ is probably Kira. I'm not willing to take a side just yet. Besides, why do you care, anyway?” I snapped, allowing my grumpiness from two weeks of sleepless nights out.

“Like I said earlier, you look _exhausted_ . If my best friend is having troubles, I should be the first person to comfort you.” I had no idea how much of what he was saying was true and how much was made up to wheedle information about Kira out of me. How much was genuine and how much was manipulation? His eyes met mine—coffee-brown ones; not red—and he said pleadingly, “Look, Kimi… if something's bothering you, you just need to tell me. I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're okay.” I feared to think what that meant. I mean, he had the freaking _Death Note_. Everything in his power? Even if it resulted in murder? His voice lowered. “Is it Hayato again?”

I shook my head. “He usually comes home late from work, and I'm usually asleep by then, so I don't see him except on weekends.”

He stiffened as another thought must've occurred to him. “Is it… about another guy?” Light's voice was dangerously soft, and I detected a hint of possessiveness in his tone. Well, in all fairness, it wasn't like I was lacking in the admirers department. I wasn't bad-looking, but most people tended to stay away because they assumed Light and I were… you know. Dating. I guess Light had every reason to be protective, seeing as he _was_ my best friend. Well, another opportunity to get a rise out of him.

I let out a small laugh. “What if I told you you were right?” I teased.

Ryuk snickered in the background.

Light's eyes widened, and his mood seemed to drop considerably. Almost… disappointed. But what reason would he have to be disappointed? “Wh-who is it?” he asked, his voice sad with an undertone of anger. If this wasn't Light, I would definitely identify that reaction as jealousy. But this _was_ Light, so what reason would he have to be jealous? “Who is it?” he asked again, this time his voice more angry than anything.

“Jeez, I'm kidding. Don't worry, I'm not going to be dating anyone anytime soon.” I said between laughs.

Light's shoulders relaxed, but when he said, “Don't scare me like that,” his voice was still tense. “Well,” he continued, “then what _has_ been making you lose sleep? I'm only bringing this up now because of how serious it's becoming. You've even stopped confronting teachers when you know you can do better than them.”

I decided that I had better start toying with his own thoughts and edit the storyline. “Like I told you, it wouldn't benefit you unless you're Kira. Unless you're implying that you _are_ , in fact, Kira, this would be of no use to you.”

“I'm _not_ Kira, but if it's bothering you, you should tell me about it. Maybe it'll help.” he said. _This is manipulation. He's definitely trying to get it out of me._

“Well, I couldn't help but notice that after the Lind L. Tailor broadcast, both L and Kira have been surprisingly quiet. After killing Tailor, Kira has made it obvious that when he discovers L’s true identity, L will die, but he can't zero in on anywhere in particular because L has to make the first move. After looking through a public record of the heart attack victims, the times, matched with the motives, makes it look like Kira is a student. Yet, after a certain amount of time, he took two days to allow criminals to die every hour, on the hour. I think that Kira either realised his mistake or he has connections to the police, and they've figured out he's a student. He's also showing us that he can set the time of death. If anything, L can now narrow _his_ suspects to people with connections to the police. Obviously, though, he can't say that directly to the NPA, so I think he's going to try get an outsider to investigate the police and their families. Kira, on the other hand, could use this to his advantage. If the outsiders were to die, the NPA would find out, and they'd start despising L, and won't trust them until he makes a personal appearance.” I leaned backward into my seat and closed my eyes, letting out a sigh.

“That's a really good point,” Light said appraisingly.

“But the problem lies here: if the outsiders _were_ to die, Kira would be killing innocents. That's when the world will know Kira as a cold-blooded murderer. After the broadcast, Kira proved that he was willing to kill innocents who stand in his way.” I was careful to say everything clearly and carefully so Penber, who was sitting behind us, would possibly note down just how accurate my _theory_ was and would—just possibly—report it to L. If I wanted to get involved in the storyline, I'd have to make an effort.

“Seriously, that's a pretty amazing theory. I can see how that could help either side. I'll be honest; even _I_ didn't think of that.” he said, staring into the distance.

I yawned, letting out my exhaustion, and rested my head on Light's shoulder. “I'm just gonna…” I yawned again. “Take a nap,” I said, and angled my head upward to face the side of Light's face, whispering, “The guy who's sitting behind us has been following you. Most likely that ‘outsider’ I mentioned. You're a suspect in L’s eyes. You fit the criteria: you have connections to the police, you're a student, and you're smart enough to be able to evade L.” After yawning again, I fell asleep on Light's shoulder. It was muscular, but not hard. _Comfortable._

I was jerked awake with a harsh voice screaming, “This bus has just been hijacked, ladies and gentlemen!” _Right, this guy._

“Huh?” I moaned, not wanting to be woken up.

“Shh,” Light whispered, nudging my shoulder with his and nodding pointedly as Osoreda.

“Wasn't he the dude who was on the news three days ago for a failed attempt at robbing a bank? I'm surprised Kira hasn't killed him yet,” I said, yawning silently. “Just my luck, isn't it?”

“Don't say that,” Light chastised.

“Cut the squawking! Anyone makes a sound or move of any kind, I blow their damn head off!” Osoreda screeched.

“Oh, so are we not allowed to breathe? Then it won't make a difference if you shoot us or not; we’ll all die of lack of oxygen.” I muttered under my breath, to see Light suppressing a smile, but he nudged my shoulder—a warning to be careful.

“Hey, driver. You know the Spaceland phone number, don't you? Call it.” the busjacker said, a lot more composed than before.

“Uh, okay,” the driver said, and dialled the number. Each _beep_ was heard; the bus was so quiet, you could've heard a pin drop. The influence fear held over a person… was truly fascinating. Fear was far more effective than anything when getting people to do what you want. “This is Sasaki, driver of bus number one-two-four…”

Osoreda smirked. “Tell ‘em what's happening.”

After gulping, the driver continued, “Th-the bus has been hijacked by a man with a gun! I—”

“Gimme that,” Osoreda snarled, snatching the phone from Sasaki’s grasp. “You hear that?” he asked into the phone. “Now listen to _this_. Take all the money you made yesterday, and bring it to Yuhihama bus stop—that's two stops before Spaceland—before this bus gets there. I want a woman delivering the money by car, no one else!” he said, waving his gun around animatedly. “You try to be smart with me, or call the cops, I kill every passenger on this bus! You got that?” Osoreda didn't even wait for an answer before ending the call, sniggering, and smashing the phone underfoot.

“So now they can't even try to negotiate. Knowing people, as long as their own lives aren't threatened, get won't give a damn about helping. We're all going to die. Nice knowing you, Light; I'll hopefully see you in my next life.” I muttered, leaning back into my seat.

After scrawling a bunch of words into a piece of paper, he pushed it into my gloved hands. It read, _Relax, Kimi. We'll be fine; don't be so cynical. I'm going to look for a chance to grab the guy's arm and pin it down so he can't use his gun. Dad taught me what to do in situations like this. He's pretty small and weak-looking; it'll be easy to restrain him_.

 _He_ was calling _me_ a cynic? Fine, it's true, but still! Offensive much?

“Don't. It’s too dangerous. Let _me_ take care of that,” Penber said quietly from behind us.

 _Now that I think about it, I don't think I'd have trusted a random guy to protect me without proof._ “Can we trust him?” I whispered to Light, making him shoot me a look that said, _How am I supposed to know?_ It was impressive how he was able to convey that with a glance, while lying at the same time, _and_ writing on some paper.

“It's okay, we can talk if we keep our voices down; he won't hear us over the noise of the bus,” Penber said.

“I don't mean to be rude, but you have a slight accent. You aren't Japanese, are you?” Light said, his voice low and dangerous.

“No, I'm American. My mother's Japanese, though.” he said cautiously.

“Do you have anything that will prove that you aren't the hijacker’s accomplice?”

“Accomplice?” I asked, injecting a fair amount of fear and skepticism into my voice to keep the act going.

“It's pretty common practice. They make you _think_ there's only one guy, but he actually has an accomplice in the back to keep watch and come to the rescue if anything goes wrong.” Light said softly, his words directed at me.

“You mean to say—oh, you idiot, then why did you hold up that note so clearly?” I chastised him, to keep in character.

“You were asleep, and you wouldn't have paid attention otherwise.” Light redirected his attention to Penber. “Well, do you?”

“You want proof? Here,” Penber said in a way that would almost have sounded sassy if not for the dire situation as he handed over his FBI ID. _Well, you just signed your own death warrant, Raye Penber._

Handing the ID back, Light said, “Okay, I trust you. And right now I won't ask why an FBI agent is on this bus.” _You already know because I told you._

Bored, I decided to step in. “So _you'll_ take care of it if something happens?”

“Yes.” Penber responded simply.

Light wrapped his left arm around my shoulders, and pulled his right arm out of his pocket, effectively dropping a crumpled piece of paper from the Death Note. “Oops,” he said, leaning over to pick it up. I elbowed him, not wanting to get the hijacker’s attention. If Light had written that he'd hallucinate in the Death Note, there was no point in letting him see Ryuk. His own mind would create a phantom for him to see anyway. This was Light trying to get a rise out of him.

“Hey, you!” Osoreda shrieked, pointing at Light. “Hold it! What's that paper?” he leaned over to pick it up. _Light, if you dropped the wrong note, prepare yourself for a bullet in both of our brains._ “Ya little **[CENSORED]** , passin’ notes and trying to plan something, are ya?”

“ _Tch!_ What's this, plans for a date? Stupid kid. Drop something again, I'll shoot ya!” Osoreda “warned” (read: threatened), striding back to the front of the bus after tossing the paper behind, which landed on my lap. Turning around, he added, “And that goes for all of y’all. Anybody makes a move, I'm gonna…” he trailed off, and his pupils contracted as he saw Ryuk, who'd once again been surprisingly quiet. “Wh-what the hell?!” he screamed. “You… in the back there, you…. Monster, you… how long you been there?” he kept shrieking.

“Hmm? You talking to _me_ ?” Ryuk asked casually. “You can _see_ me…?”

“Don't… move, just stay… right there… or I'll shoot…!” Osoreda tried to threaten, but his voice shook.

Penber chose that moment to intervene. “He's on PCP or something; he's hallucinating! Everybody get down!” he yelled.

“Oh, I get it,” Ryuk chuckled. “That note Light dropped—he must've torn it out of the Death Note.”

Light quickly wrapped his arm around me as Osoreda got closer to the back, and pulled me towards him protectively.

“This guy touched it, so he can see me. Nobody else can…. Smart kid, Light!” Ryuk continued, cackling all the while.

“Back… stay back… urgh… worrgh…” Osoreda kept muttering unintelligibly, leaving everyone except Light and I extremely confused. After seeing Ryuk inch closer, he yelled something like “Kyaaaah!” and started firing his gun at Ryuk.

“Sorry, dude. I'm a Shinigami, so that isn't going to kill me,” Ryuk said in a conversational tone, making the hijacker scream again. “‘I'm always hovering behind you,’ ‘Anyone who touches the Death Note can see me,’ and ‘You could even put a bullet through their head but a Shinigami won't die.’ All stuff I told Light. Pretty impressive how he put it all together. Guess he isn't Japan’s top exam scorer for nothing. Plus, he got his shadow to show him his ID.” Ryuk continued. Osoreda shot one last bullet—his sixth one—with his hands shaking so badly, he missed by a landslide.

The next thing I knew, there was a stabbing pain in my right shoulder. I vaguely made out Osoreda and a bunch of the others, including Light and Penber, get off the bus. Light had finished his conversation with Penber, and was getting on the bus, when I cried out in pain. Whatever had hurt me was serious. Black spots danced in my vision, along with a _lot_ of red. Like, a _lot_ of red. At first, I thought that I saw Kira’s eyes in them. Then it was Light’s tie. After that, it became lipstick. Then cherry Kool-Aid. It took several tries before my mind perceived it for what it was: a huge pool of blood. And it _hurt_ . I cried out again, and heard Light's voice, and felt like I was floating, being lifted, and the gentle sway that could only mean he was carrying me. _Keep your eyes open_ , I told myself, _because if you close them, you may never open them again. Keep your eyes open._ I kept repeating it in my head until it became like a mantra; it was the only thing in my mind. _Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open. Keep your…_

 _It hurts_ , moaned my shoulder.

_I don't care! Eyes open!_

I was vaguely aware of entering a hospital—I could tell because of the smell of disinfectant and hand sanitiser. A nurse must've taken me to an emergency room, because then, most of the pain subsided; the stabbing pain was reduced to a dull ache. _Anaesthesia_ , I realised.

“Is it bad?” I mumbled.

I felt a pressure on my hand. The familiar grip could only have belonged to one person: Light. “It'll be fine,” he said into my ear, but I wasn't sure he believed it himself; his voice was shaky. “Talk about something else, take your mind off the injury,” Light said. “It'll help.”

“I was right,” I said, mustering a weak smile, which contorted into a grimace as I felt something cold and sharp go into my shoulder.

Light shook his head patronisingly. “Of _course_ that's the first thing you say. Anyhow, continue.”

I kept my voice down so the nurse wouldn’t hear. “That FBI agent… what did he say to you after he got off the bus?”

Light’s face morphed into an expression of confusion before relaxing. “He said he was on a top-secret mission and not to tell anyone—including my dad—that he was there.”

I shook my head. “Well, he’d have been better off not—ow!—showing his ID to us. I mean, the whole reason he was tailing you in the first place was because you’re a suspect of being”—I looked over at the nurse, who’d aligned her necessary instruments and was heading back over to me—“ _you-know-who_.”

“Yeah. Who knows if the whole busjacking was orchestrated; Kira could’ve had a small camera or bug planted, but that would mean…” Light said, trailing off. I was surprised that he was saying this much, but sometimes it comes to a point which to avoid suspicion, you have to relinquish more information than you would like, or it becomes obvious you’re hiding something.

“That Kira can both control his victims, and—ouch!—kill in other ways than just heart attacks.” I finished for him. _Is he counting on me figuring it out? Or is he trying to wedge me firmly on Kira’s side? That would be like saying, “Look, this guy shot you, but Kira made sure he died painfully in revenge. Isn’t Kira the greatest?” Talk about a manipulation master. “M.M.” for short._ I sighed. “Well, if any of the FBI agents die anytime soon, we can—ow! That hurt!—assume that Kira was behind it,” I said eventually. “I still can’t believe—mm!—I got shot, though.”

“You’ll be okay; I promise,” Light said soothingly.

“No one ever believed idle reassurance, but in this case, you’re right.” I snapped.

“We’re going to need to remove the bullet and stitch up the wound now; could you please take off your top?” the nurse informed me, interrupting whatever Light was going to say.

“I’ll just… go…” Light said awkwardly.

“Stay,” I pleaded. “Cover your eyes, but stay. Please.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask questions. I decided that I liked her for that. Keep quiet and do your job. My mind immediately flashed back to the woman at the cinema that had poked her nose into mine and Light’s relationship. I didn’t miss her one bit.

“Wait,” I grouched. “My arm may or may not have a bullet inside it, which will make it very hard to remove my top.” I said sardonically. “Light… I may need a bit of help.”

Light flushed a brilliant scarlet, but complied.

I was wearing a sleeveless top underneath, but when I got a good look at it, both the top and my turtleneck were dyed crimson.

I didn’t see the nurse plunge the knife in, but I sure as hell felt it. “Ow!” I cried, as she tried to dislodge the bullet from my insides. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…”

Light squeezed my hand reassuringly as I whimpered in pain, when the bullet popped out, clanging to the floor. After pursing her lips, the nurse stitched up the wound, and wrapped a bandage around it.

We got out of the hospital, and I gulped in fresh air by the bucketful.

“You look like you’ve been inhaling stale air all your life,” Light commented teasingly. I just sighed in response.

“When the anaesthesia wears off… I bet I’ll be howling in pain. You did remember the painkillers the nurse gave, right?” I asked, not wanting to be alone at home. Hayato was on another business trip with one of his colleagues. Though how much was business (that was apparently none of my own) and how much was meeting at a bunch of nightclubs and flirting with ladies, I had no idea.

“You can stay overnight at my place. You know that the door’s always open; you _have_ one of the spare keys.” Light reminded me.

“Thanks,” I said, not bothering to put in any sideways comments.

“Mom, Kimi’s staying tonight!” Light called as we got in. “Her dad’s on another business trip and—”

Light was cut off by Sayu entering the living room, whose eyes immediately landed on the red stain on my now torn-at-the-right-shoulder turtleneck. “Please tell me that’s either ketchup or Kool-Aid…!” Sayu said warningly. For a fifteen year old, she could be surprisingly naïve.

Aunt Sachiko (That’s what I call her. Don’t judge.) came out into the living room after hearing Sayu’s comment, for her vision to drop right onto my shoulder. I should’ve seen her _Protective-Mama Mode_ coming from a mile away. Her eyes glinted viciously as she said in a low voice, “Will either one of you explain to me—what—happened—?”

Light and I gulped simultaneously as Sayu hummed that “game-over” tune in video games.

“Well—” Light started, but I interrupted him.

“We were going—”

“To Spaceland—”

“And the bus we were on—”

“Got hijacked—”

“And the guy—”

“That drug addict from the bank robbery a couple of days ago—”

“He had a gun—”

“And he started hallucinating—”

“And was randomly firing—”

“At the back window—”

“But his hands were shaking like crazy—”

“So one of the bullets—”

“Hit me instead,” I finished.

Aunt Sachiko shook her head. “I don’t believe it. A hijacker on a bus to an amusement park. Have either of you reported him yet?”

“He was hit by a car after running off the bus when he ran out of bullets.” Light supplied.

“Right. I suppose you’d rather I not tell your father, then?”

I had no idea whether that was directed at Light or me, but I shook my head vigorously anyway. After Light and I picked a bunch of stuff—clothes, my toothbrush, et cetera—from my house, I dragged myself to the room which I shared with Light when I stayed overnight and opened the pullout bed from Light’s bed, and after Aunt Sachiko helped me change the blood-soaked bandage and helped me into my pyjamas, I fell asleep almost immediately.

That night was the first night I slept soundly in weeks, nightmare-free.


	9. I Have More Time Left to Live (Hooray!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimiko was sure things could calm down considerably after the hijacking... but would it really be that easy to alter the storyline? Can she really bear the weight of the FBI agents' deaths on her shoulders?

For the next couple of weeks, I was to stay home and take care for the Christmas holidays. In other words, I was staying with the Yagami family because there was no one at home to care for me. Light and I would discuss Kira, and, consequently, Kira was more analytical with his killings. When, on Sunday, Light said that he was going to get something done. In other words, he was still going to get the FBI agents.  _ I still need to tamper with the storyline.  _ Maybe it would be better if I reminded myself of the original manga plot. So far, I've been involved in mainly chapters one and seven, and even then, I'd just been a supporting character. To move up the ranks, I'd have to pick a definitive side, which I wasn't sure I could do just yet. 

Twelve FBI agents died on the night of the twenty-eighth of December, 2003. I had known it was coming. Yet I had just sat back and  _ watched _ . 

That night, it was hard to sleep, knowing that I had done nothing to protect the lives of not one, but  _ twelve _ innocents. Twelve people who did not deserve to die, yet did, for following orders. And because of the—no, because of  _ me _ —their loved ones had to suffer, while I had sat back and watched, doing nothing to help them. When I did fall asleep, it was restless and unpleasant, an unusual sensation for me when I stayed with the Yagami family, especially since they were more like family to me than Hayato. I’d always felt more at home here; more at ease here, with Aunt Sachiko, Uncle Soichiro, Light, and Sayu. I may not have shared any blood with them, but they were more my family than Hayato had ever been.

 

_ In the dream, I was alone in a dark room. Well, almost alone. On the ground was a corpse, mangled and bloody. Female. She was young; not older than twelve. She had had caramel hair that looked blonde in the sunlight streaming in, its real colour visible in the shadows. Her eyes were open—a light brown, like hot cocoa, sans the warmth, the warmth that only life could provide, but dead, frozen solid. I looked at her curiously; she looked familiar for some reason. But the bloodied corpse was hard to place in my memory. It was truly frustrating. “Sienna…” someone sniffled. I turned at the use of my former name, to see someone so familiar. _

_ She had fair skin and dark hair, coupled with verdigris eyes that were glowing with grief. She was shorter than me, but taller than Sienna.  _ Anna. _ But… here… I was Kimiko Yamada. There was no way she could have recognised me. Why did she say my name? Kimiko didn’t have Sienna’s caramel hair or hot-cocoa eyes… oh. That description may not have fit Kimiko Yamada, me, as I was now, but it matched up perfectly with the girl lying dead on the floor. So that was who Anna was addressing. My dead past self. _

_ Behind Anna was someone else—a boy. His hair was a light blond, but not platinum. His eyes were a hazy blue flecked with grey, like when you could see a storm coming in a spring sky. I immediately recognised him: Louis. He was tall, taller than Anna, so much so that she would have to stand on tiptoe to be eye-to-eye with him. His hands were clenched into fists in his pockets, and he was staring at my corpse on the floor, as if silently cursing the Fates for what had happened.  _

_ But right next to the corpse was Christie, with her flaming red hair and amber eyes, glistening with tears, some in her eyes, some rolling down her cheeks. Christie, the blazing fire whom everyone took for a demon from the deepest depths of Hell, crying, holding a dead body’s hand as if it were a lifeline. Christie was muttering profanities under her breath that would’ve put an old-time sailor to shame, squeezing the hand as if she would be able to feel a pulse if she tried hard enough.  _

_ I wanted to reach out, to reassure them that I was fine, that they were still special to me, that I was still  _ there _ , but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. When I finally managed to speak, it was barely a whisper, “I’m sorry,” but it echoed throughout the room, being the only sound, reverberated across the walls, louder than it would if I'd shouted in the open. Yet they didn't hear; how could they? For it was merely a dream, nothing more. I looked at my past self’s dead body. I wondered what would have become of me as I survived. In that moment, the scene changed.  _

_ Now, the girl with the caramel hair looked about my current age—seventeen. Next to her was a boy, one I didn't recognise. He had tousled black hair and shining greyish-blue eyes. Highly attractive. I felt my face flush after staring so much. He said something, with a broad smile on his face, and Sienna covered her mouth with her hands and laughed gently. Then, she leaned in and planted a kiss on the mystery boy's lips, and, judging from his reaction, it was their first one. Still, it didn't take him long to reciprocate.  _ Is this an alternate universe in which I survived? _ I wondered.  _ Would that have been my future boyfriend? _ All those questions swirled in my head as the scene changed again.  _

_ Sienna older now, probably thirty. She was holding a bundle of blankets—no, not blankets. I moved closer. The bundle wriggled.  _

_ It was a baby.  _

_ Now, let me say to you right now that seeing your past self as a  _ mother _ when you had died at the age of twelve is disconcerting. Understatement of the century. Well, I was confused, weirded out, embarrassed, kinda grossed out, and it was just plain awkward. Then another thought hit me: Who was the father? _

_ Sienna laughed, touching the baby on the nose and cooing. It opened its eyes. The same startling grey as that boy from before the timeskip, and the caramel hair that was obviously mine—I mean, Sienna's.  _

_ As expected, the same boy—now a man—walked into the room, and upon seeing the baby, his eyes lit up. “Hello, Lorraine,” he cooed gently. So it was a girl. I remembered always fond of the name Lorraine. I—Sienna—must've chosen it.  _

_ “Andy,” Sienna said, making the grey eyed man look at her. “Do you think Christie’s okay?” _

Christie? What happened to the fiery girl?  _ I wondered frantically, thinking about all the things that could've gone wrong.  _

_ “I think we should go over and check. It's not like Louis would object, and Christie could use your support.”  _ Support? _ I quickly followed the couple out, along with Lorraine, who was giggling at the clouds, reaching out as if to touch them; eat them like cotton candy.  _

_ The door they knocked on was opened by a familiar blond head—Louis. He had dark bags under his eyes, too.  _ Wait… they were talking about Chris earlier… but if  _ Louis _ answered the door… Christie and Louis were married!  _ It took all my effort not to scream in joy, when I realised that I was intangible, so I did it anyway.  _ Wait… where’s Anna? _ I phased through the wall, to see a wild mop of red and a tamer head of dark hair, with an unfamiliar honey-blond male hanging around the sidelines.  _

_ On the bed, Anna and Christie were overseeing three infants crawling around each other. One—a girl—had Christie’s red hair and Louis’s blue-ish eyes, another—a boy—had Louis’s blond hair and Christie’s amber eyes. Twins. The third kid—another boy—had Anna’s verdigris orbs and honey-blond hair, like the dude on the sidelines. And then, who would crawl in but Lorraine? It was heartwarming to see everyone like that. Married, and kids.  _

_ It was heartwarming to see Lorraine, Arthur and Annie—Christie’s twins—and Daniel grow up together. They'd play house at four, tag at nine, video games at twelve, and study sessions at seventeen. It was heartwarming, but also heartbreaking, because all that was the possibility of a life that I could never have. Lorraine and Arthur fell in love, just like Annie and Daniel.  _

_ I felt my heart shatter into a billion pieces, thinking about the ideal life that could have been mine, had I left my house twenty seconds earlier or later that day, so many years ago. And then, each one of those billion pieces exploded into a maroon smoke—the colour of heartache. _

 

I woke up with a scream in my mouth and my heart battering my rib cage. Light was leaning over me anxiously, so close, that when I shot up, my head smacked into his. 

“Ow!” I cried. 

“Hey!” he protested at the same time. “You okay, Kimi?” 

I rubbed my temples. “Yeah. First time I've had a nightmare here, though.”

“Yeah,” Light agreed. “It’s been getting harder to sleep recently.”

“Hear, hear,” I sighed. “What with all this Kira versus L stuff, school in general, et cetera, et cetera. Oh, yeah, and the fact that I got shot.”

Light winced. “You do realise that I never intended for that to happen, right?”

“Yeah, doesn’t make it better though, does it?” I snapped back. 

Light looked taken aback. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologise. Just… please. I just wish it could all be over. I guess I’m just tired…” I send him a crooked, twisted, sad smile. “Tired of being Kimiko Yamada.”  _ Sienna Mason had a better life. She got married to a nice guy, and, as a bonus, handsome too. They had a little daughter called Lorraine. I wish I was Sienna again.  _ “I’m fed up of all this,” I said aloud without realising it.

A panic rose in Light’s eyes. “Kimiko. If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking—”

“Suicide? Possibly. Don’t you get it, Light? I’m not normal. I’m an abomination. I don’t deserve to be here; I shouldn’t have been born. Not here, at least.” I couldn’t tell if I was lying or not. Was I suicidal? Each moment I thought about it, it scared me—how much the truth was leaning towards a “yes”.  _ Why did it have to be Death Note? Why not something calmer? I could’ve been safe. If it was Harry Potter, I’d have been a Muggle. Percy Jackson, I would likely have been mortal. I could go on for days here. But with Death Note… it’s too easy to get involved. Just by knowing what I do, I could slip up; if I make one false move, I'll be arrested—whether a police arrest or a cardiac arrest depends on my own actions. Spilling one tiny detail could cost me my life.  _

“Kimiko Yamada, look at me.” Light said, bending a little bit to reach my height and looking me dead in the eyes. “No matter what you say, there are people in this world who love you. Me, my family, even Hayato, no matter what he does or says. You are a person who means a lot to a lot of people. Do you pay attention, in class, when you patronise a teacher or throw them a sarcastic comment, to which they retaliate, and you just show you were right all along? Have you never seen how many people have to stifle their laughs or hide their smiles? You’re not sunshine and rainbows, but you can always make people smile. And”—Light  _ gulped _ —“I don’t know what I would do if I were to lose you.”

_ Losing your best friend—since birth, too—would hurt, I guess. If I’m the only thing keeping Light sane… I have to uphold the image, if only for his sake.  _ Still, all I was able to say was “mhmm”. 

Light’s eyes softened. “Come on; dinner’s ready. You slept through the whole day,”

“Yeah. Gimme a minute.” I said. “I’m going to go wash up.” 

In the bathroom, I peeled off my sweaty pyjamas and turned the knob to the shower. I reflected on every fangirl-gets-sucked-into-Death-Note story I’d read. What was the usual thing that happened? The girl meets L, impresses him with deductive skills, the girl and L get together, and eventually convict Light of being Kira. 

No.

Anything else? Yeah, the girl  _ saves _ the FBI agents, lets them live a happily ever after. The girl  _ saves _ L and Matt and Mello. And sentences Light to death for being Kira. One problem: I didn’t want Light to die. The point is, the girl always acts in the face of it all. She isn't scared of risking her life. She never made ties with a person she could never save. She would be the one leading everyone. 

I was nothing like that heroic girl. 

_ I don't want to die; it's all I want to do. I can't risk Light; I can't risk L.  _

_ I don't know. I don't know anymore.  _

Maybe it would be better if I was out of the picture. I looked in the mirror. The girl in the mirror stared back at me. Her platinum blonde hair was matted and messy, her eyes had bags under them and were red and puffy from crying. Her skin was pasty and practically white as snow. 

I didn't recognise her. _I_ did not have messy hair that stuck out in tufts. _I_ didn't have bags under my eyes. _I_ _didn't cry_. The only thing I had in common with the girl in the mirror was hair and eye colour. She was not me, but I felt _my_ hand raise as I saw _hers_ do the same. 

I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water calm me down.  _ I am not useless. I am not hated. I am not unwanted. I deserve to live.  _ I said to myself, trying to force myself to believe it. 

There was nothing I could've done to save the FBI agents… right? No, not without putting my life on the line. And, being only human, I put my own needs before anyone else’s. Besides, I had already dedicated myself to Light. I wouldn’t betray him. 

I went down for dinner wearing a purple full-sleeved sweater, and jeans. I pulled only socks over my feet, too. Uncle Soichiro was there, “Hey,” I said with a crooked smile. I decided to thank every god in the universe that I had worn a full-sleeve sweater to hide the bullet wound bandage. My eyes darted to meet Sayu’s, warning her not to mention my shoulder. She smiled back at me. 

“Hi, Uncle Soichiro,” I greeted after helping lay the table. After all, it was as much my house as it was theirs now. 

“It’s great to have you over again, Kimiko.”

“So, why the family meeting, Dad?” Sayu asked. I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. She’d understood. “We’re not going away anywhere for New Year’s, are we?”

_ Nope. _

“Be quiet, Sayu,” Aunt Sachiko chastised.

Uncle Soichiro sighed. “There’s no point in hiding it, as you’ll find out eventually anyway. So I’m telling you this now.” he paused for a second, then continued, “I’m in charge of the special Task Force that’s investigating the Kira case.

“Wow! I guess I kind of knew, but still… you’re amazing, Dad!” Sayu cheered. 

“That is quite an achievement,” I stated. It still wasn’t what Light wanted to hear. No matter what anyone thought, he did not want his parents getting hurt. 

“But that isn’t what I wanted to tell you,” Uncle Soichiro continued. Twelve FBI agents were sent here, to Japan, to catch Kira.” I quickly shot Light a look. “Yesterday, all twelve of them were found dead…”

“What?!” Sayu and I exclaimed rather loudly, earning a silencing glance from Aunt Sachiko. They don’t show you her scary side in the manga, all right. 

“You mean they were killed by Kira…?” Light asked softly. I could take a lesson.

“In other words, anyone who tries to apprehend Kira may be killed. Morale is low. A lot of my detectives are quitting the case. Well, who can blame them? They fear for their lives. I can’t force them to stay on when we’re dealing with such a cruel and heartless murderer.”

I thought I saw Light stiffen slightly. 

Then you quit too, Dad!” Sayu cried. “What if Kira tries to kill you?”  _ That won’t happen, at least. Well, not directly anyway. _

“She’s right, your life is more important than your career,” Aunt Sachiko said firmly. 

“No.” Uncle Soichiro objected. “I’m seeing this case through to the end. I will not succumb to evil.”

“Dad…” Sayu said.

“Dear…” Aunt Sachiko said.

“I’m proud of you Dad,” Light said, all smiles and sunshine. “You’re absolutely right. And if anything happens to you…” Light’s face darkened. “ _ I’ll _ see that Kira gets the death penalty. I swear it.” Light said, leaving for his room—not forgetting to slam the door behind him.

_ Talk about a dramatic exit. _ “I agree with Light. Your dedication is truly admirable, Uncle Soichiro. And… well, I know where Light gets his own sense of perseverance from. And, well…” I cast my eyes upwards. “If your team is as dedicated as you are, I have no doubt that Kira will be caught.”

“Thank you, Kimiko.” Uncle Soichiro smiled at me. 

“Kimiko, can you talk to Light? I think he’s probably a bit upset about this, no matter what he says.” Aunt Sachiko said. I wanted to object, but if there was one thing I’d learned, it was that you  _ did not _ mess with Sachiko Yagami.  _ Ever _ . 

So I nodded and walked upstairs. “So… suicide seems a bit extreme for you, doesn’t it… Kira?” I said without thinking. 

“Ooh,” came the  _ very _ articulate comment from Ryuk.

Well, there goes my life. On the inside:  _ Oh my gods what the  _ **_[CENSORED]_ ** _ did I just say?! Now I’m gonna die goodbye Light goodbye everyone see you next life where Death Note is just a manga let me be reborn into the world of Miraculous or Ouran High School Host Club anywhere but here oh what the  _ **_[CENSORED]_ ** _ I’m so gonna die here! _

Light’s pupils contracted. “Wh-what…?”

“Light, you’ve been discovered!” Ryuk sang, stretching out the “i” in Light’s name. 

Thinking quickly, I feigned bursting into laughter. “I can’t believe…” I took a breath, “you actually…  _ fell _ for that!” After seeing him relax, the laughter came so much more easily. The laughter of knowing that my life was saved. “I totally got you there, didn’t I?” I let loose another round of laughs. “You thought… that I thought… that  _ you’re _ Kira? Priceless!” The laughter, now genuine, poured out so intensely it had be clutching my stomach. 

“ _ Not _ funny, Sapphire,” Light said, sighing in relief. “That’s a serious accusation.”

“Actually, it  _ was _ funny,” I teased. 

Well, I thought, I was safe for the time being. 


	10. Happy New Year!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimiko finally gets to catch a break at her classmates' New Year party.

I hurriedly buttoned up my shirt, hoping to get some fresh air. _If all goes well, Light and Aunt Sachiko won’t notice my leaving._

All did not go well. As I walked down the stairs, Light asked, “Pink?”

I looked at my attire. I was wearing a pink button-up shirt with a white denim jacket, with white jeans and pink and white sneakers that looked suspiciously like they were from Converse. My hair was left open, but with two pink clips pinning the left side out of my face. 

“Sayu dared me to wear a pink outfit,” I said by means of explanation, “rather than my usual blue.” 

“Light, Sayu, Kimiko! How about helping with the year-end cleaning?” Aunt Sachiko called while vacuuming. 

“Can’t!” I called playfully. “I am currently unable to complete tasks, menial or otherwise, due to an extreme injury. So, don’t mind me, I’ll just be heading out to take a breather—”

“You are currently unable to complete tasks, menial or otherwise, due to an extreme injury, and as your caretaker, your safety is my top priority, so I would advise you against leaving the house.” Aunt Sachiko countered. 

Light, Sayu and Ryuk snickered collectively.  _ Jeez, immature much? _

“Come on, Aunt Sachiko…” I whined. “Please?”

“But you’re injured! Don’t you need rest?” she simpered.

“Well, there’s something I’d like to bring from my house, after last night’s… events.” I said tiredly. Sayu and Aunt Sachiko’s eyes popped open—the message they received must have been entirely different, so I added, “I’ve been having nightmares two nights in a row, and my shoulder hasn’t been in the most agreeable state, so there are a few things, including painkillers and some of my books, that I’d like to bring…”

Aunt Sachiko relaxed, when I realised what she thought I was implying. (You know what, I’m not even going to tell you. Figure it out yourself if you can. Great, now editor-chan’s yelling at me for implying something so sickening, and that she’s the author, not the editor.) I ran out of the house without another word to try and hide the scarlet tint on my face, covering my mouth all the while under the threat of throwing up.  _ I can’t believe she actually thought—no, don’t think about that; that’s disgusting! _ Upon dizzily reaching my front door, I pulled out my key, and unlocked the front door with my left hand.  _ Well, I’m just glad I was smart enough to train my left hand as well as my right hand. I’m surprised more people don’t aim to be ambidextrous. All it takes is practice. _

Reaching my room, I sat on the bed and flopped onto it.  _ I have had enough of Death Note. _ I snorted. If Anna had heard that, she’d have said something like,  _ Who are you and what have you done with Sienna Mason? _

I thought about it.  _ I am Kimiko Yamada and I have gotten Sienna Mason killed by walking into the path of a motorbike. _ Ha, loser.

Pulling Sienna the still-in-perfect-condition koala to my chest, I snuggled under the duvet. Only to be disturbed by a very familiar voice. “I thought you came here to bring books and stuff, not to sleep,” the voice teased. 

“Light!” I groaned, drawing out the “i” in his name. “Leave me alone…!”

He did not, so I threw the koala at him.

His tone softened. “You… you still have this?”

“You’re the one holding it right now; you tell me.” I scoffed, not wanting to get sappy.

He smiled softly. “I guess I’m not surprised.” he said. “Hey, Shinta’s party is tonight. We are going, right?”

I scoffed again. “What are we, social recluses? Of course we’re going.”

“Do you have anything to wear?” he asked, leaning closer to me.

“Shoot! And don’t patronise me!” I yelped, jumping off the bed. I rummaged through my closet, pulling out several dresses. The first one was a deep crimson dress that was collected in the middle and reached until my ankles. “Too dressy.” The next was a yellow sundress with pink floral designs all over it. “Too casual.” The third was a three-piece: a white button-up half-sleeve shirt with a lavender vest on top, and a grape and indigo checked skirt. “Too dull.” The fourth was a green gown with gold ribbons adorning the front. “Not my colour.” The fifth was a silver dress that had sequins sewn into the upper half, looked like the bottom half had been dusted in glitter, and a shrug made of silver satin. “Too… shiny.”

Eventually, I had about fourteen dresses lying on the floor, and several more in the cupboard when I saw Light was getting fed up. “If you’re going to take this long…” he said, an edge to his voice.

“Well, why don’t  _ you _ try choosing, then, if you're so proud of your fashion sense?” I retorted. 

Wordlessly, Light pushed several dresses aside in my cupboard as he pulled two out. The first was a simple one-shoulder icy blue dress with a white ribbon and beaded snowflake designs. It had only the right shoulder, leaving the left one bare. The skirt wasn't tight, but not poofy either, and it was made from light blue tulle whereas the rest of the dress was cotton voile. The second one was a black strapless dress that would reach until just above my knee, plain for the most part, but had lacy finishes and a sweetheart neckline. 

My throat tightened as I recognised the dress: my dream when I was five. How could I ever forget? 

“Put the black dress inside,” I said as civilly as I could. 

Arching an eyebrow at my sudden change of attitude, Light put the dress back. I hurriedly gathered my books and medicines, and pulled the clothes into my bag, when I heard a door slam downstairs. My eyes were alight with fear. “He's back,” I whispered. “Hello…  _ Dad _ .” I said venomously. 

Light nudged my shoulder. 

“You two,” he said dully, “what are you doing?”

“Forgive us, we were just picking up a few things for later.” Light said politely. I really needed to learn from him. 

I saw a flash in Hayato’s eyes. “Light, I'll meet you at your house. Here, help me with these,” I said, handing the boy the bag of books and medicine. 

He shot me a troubled look, but left nonetheless. 

“What do you want?” I asked, turning to Hayato abruptly. 

“I want to know  _ exactly  _ what is going on.” he said. 

“Specific.” I almost growled. 

“You're holding an expensive dress.”

“And why do I need to say anything? We’ve done just fine ignoring each other for almost a year now rather than you beating me up all the time, so let’s just go back to the arrangement where you live your life and I live mine!  _ You _ have no need to know what I’m going with my life—when was the last time you cared? When I was seven? Ten years ago? That sounds about right. So just leave me the hell alone!” My voice had raised to a yell at the end. After taking a deep breath, I continued, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have made arrangements with my friend.”

I debated slamming the door, but doing so would mean he won. And I would  _ not _ let him win. Hayato Yamada was now a severe threat. And threats… must be eradicated. So I would make sure this virus was out of the system soon. 

Why was Light rubbing off on me so much? 

A few hours later, I was absolutely fed up of that stupid dress with its stupid zipper. “Hey, Sayu!” I called. “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Sure thing, Kimiko!” she said, doing just that. Sayu then frowned. “I still don't have a nickname for you…” she muttered. 

Four months ago, I'd challenged her to come up with her own nickname for me.  _ I'm surprised she's still thinking about it.  _

“Y’know what? You like that koala toy, right? What about ‘Kimikoala’?” Sayu looked at me earnestly. 

I burst out laughing. “This is why you still don't have a decent nickname. Besides, ‘Kimikoala’ sounds more like a ship name.” I teased, then put on an accent. “I ain't marryin’ some critter off them darn eucalyptus trees!” 

Sayu and I were both in hysterics at that point. 

“I doubt it,” came a more masculine voice. “I bet she's already proposed to the poor koala,” Light teased, shaking his head playfully. “ _ And _ been rejected.”

I put a hand over my heart in mock horror. “Light, you  _ traitor _ ! I  _ trusted _ you with that secret! Oh, woe is me! Now my dirtiest secret has been revealed! I am hopeless! Now whatever shall I do? Alas, I must run away, fake my death and create a new identity in some area of the Sahara desert! The  _ shame _ !” I wailed dramatically. 

“Light, Kimiko, you have to be there in twenty minutes!” Aunt Sachiko called from downstairs, cutting through the laughter. 

“Coming!” I called, slipping on blue flats that matched with the dress and pinning my hair back with a simple silver pin. 

“Just a minute, Mom!” Light said. 

 

As we walked through the streets, I turned to Light. “What kind of things do you think Shinta’s planned for the party?”

Light shrugged. “No idea.”

I sighed. “Can you believe it's already New Year's Eve?” I murmured. 

“And we're almost eighteen.” Light added. 

I let loose a laugh. “Almost eighteen and neither you nor I have dated anyone yet,” I grinned. 

Light smiled back. “I think it's a new world record.” 

In that moment, it was so easy to let go of the stress of the past few weeks; Light becoming Kira, L being after us, me knowing the probable future, heck, even exams, which really should have been the only thing that was on two high school students’ minds. 

“Kimi? Where are you going? Shinta’s house is here, not on the other end of the street.” Light pointed out, grabbing my shoulder to stop me from wandering into nowhere. 

I flushed. “Right.” Light rang the doorbell.

“Yo, peeps!” Shinta greeted, spreading his arms out as if to hug us.

”Hey, Shinta," I said, smiling at my classmate.

”You guys are gonna have an  _ awesome _ time! Kayumi and I spent  _ hours _ planning.” Shinta cheered. 

“Not if you don’t let us in,” Light joked. 

Stepping aside dramatically, Shinta bowed and ushered us in. “Do come in, my cherished guests!” he grinned. 

“Shinta!” Kayumi scolded. “Stop stalling and let them in!”

“It’s all right, Kayumi; he was doing just that,” Light said, smiling at the girl. I could have sworn I saw a blush creep across her face. 

“O-oh. I, uh, later see you—I mean, see you later, Light! Um, everyone’s waiting upstairs in the party room, so… I’ll see you there!” she said, then awkwardly walked away.  _ She kinda reminds me of Marinette from Miraculous _ , I thought.  _ Oh gods, now that I think about it, Light would probably make a good Adrien. _ I shook the absurd thought out of my head. 

“Okay, then,” Kayumi called out from a microphone that she had somehow convinced hers and Shinta’s parents to install in their house with a full blown  _ speaker system _ , “We’ll be starting off our brilliant evening with… Truth or Dare!” she hollered enthusiastically. “The rules are standard. Everyone’s name is written on a piece of paper inside this box. Whoever’s name is picked will have to either answer a question honestly, or do any task assigned to them unless the task is deemed far too inappropriate. If you do not wish to answer the question or complete the dare, you must remove an article of clothing. If you get to the point where you’re down to your underwear and you find yourself unable to complete your task, you are out. Last person standing wins!”

I gulped. I was only wearing my dress, a pair of shorts underneath, my flats, and a pin holding back my hair. I hadn’t even brought a jacket! 

“Looks like you’re in trouble, Ice Queen,” I heard someone snicker behind me. I turned around to face her.  _ Aiko Iwase _ . Probably the most annoying person to think she was smart. (Well, aside from Kiyomi Takada, but then again, I only remembered her attitude from the manga. Still hadn’t met her. Plus,  _ how on Earth _ did Aiko get here? I distinctly remember her being from  _ Bakuman _ , Ohba and Obata’s other work!) 

I rolled my eyes. “Well, maybe I’m just that much braver than you. You’re covered up in layers, and you have the gall to confront me, Prissy Princess?” I smirked. “You do realise there  _ is _ a point system, right? Besides, that just about  _ proves _ there’s something you don’t want people to know.” Then, after a moment, I added, “But thank you for addressing me as a royal superior to you.” I curtseyed in response, hiding a smile as she turned on her heel and walked away, sneering.

“Okay, everyone, our first victim is…” Kayumi called, reaching for a slip of paper, “Junichiro Fujimoto!”

A guy with glasses called, “Dare!” 

Kayumi smirked. “I dare you to lick Daichi’s foot!” she shouted, making a chorus of  _ eww _ s go around the room. 

Junichiro shrugged. “Daichi, take off your socks.” he said, and swiped his tongue on Daichi’s fourth toe, cringing. “Dude! You taste like soap!” Trust Junichiro to get the embarrassment to switch to someone else. 

“I had a shower before coming!” Daichi protested. 

“Okay, that’s enough! Junichiro, you can choose the next name.”

“Yuriko Koizumi! Truth or Dare?”

“Truth!” Yuriko responded.

“Where were you when we had that Halloween party this year?” Junichiro asked. “I noticed Ibuki was missing too,” he snickered. 

“We were placing tacks on the teachers’ chairs, and… possibly… stealing a couple of kisses in between…”

Several  _ ooh _ s ran through, when she ran up to the front, picking a name. 

The game carried on, and I ended up taking off my hairpin at one point when someone asked about the scars on my arms, when I heard my name for about the seventh time. 

“Kimiko Yamada!” It was Shinta. “I dare you to kiss…” his eyes surveyed the room as I felt my cheeks warm to a horrible pink colour. A grin spread across his face as he finished, “Light Yagami.”

I walked up to Light and kissed him on the cheek. “He’s my best friend, people. No need to act so surprised.”

Shinta’s grin widened. “Oh, but I wasn’t finished. The kiss has to be on the lips.”

I choked. Light choked. Light’s fangirls choked. Light’s friends were all grinning like idiots. Several shippers squealed. Shinta grinned evilly. After composing myself, I reached into my white clutch, pulling out a Hershey’s Kiss. Without letting anyone see it, I unwrapped it, the pressed the chocolate on to Light’s mouth. “You can’t outsmart me.”

The chocolate disappeared, making my fingers fall onto Light’s lips as he chewed the chocolate. “Thanks, Sapphire,” he mumbled through the chocolate. His tongue  _ absolutely did not _ touch my fingertips when his mouth opened. Nope. Not at all. My hand was completely saliva-free. And  _ no _ , my cheeks didn’t go bright pink because  _ it never happened. _ End of story.

I flicked his head. “You are truly  _ disgusting _ , Coffee.” I teased. 

“Okay, stop flirting and choose the next person already!” someone cried. 

“We’re not flirting!” Light and I exclaimed at the same time. 

Reaching into the box, I pulled another name. “Light Yagami.” I grinned. 

The crowd  _ ooh _ ed. 

“Truth or Dare?”

Light locked eyes with me, conveying a clear message.  _ Challenge me _ . I suddenly wondered what would happen if I got him to confess to being Kira, but quickly banished the thought. “Dare.”

“I dare you to compose a love poem.” Light gushing romantic lines? Brilliant.  

Light's cheeks tinged pink. “Give me a minute,” he said. Then, exactly sixty seconds later, he recited:

“ _ When I say I love you, _

_ Please believe it's true.  _

_ When I say forever, _

_ Know I'll never leave you.  _

_ When I say goodbye, _

_ Promise me you won't cry, _

_ ‘Cause the day I'll be saying that  _

_ Would be the day I die. _ ”

Looking around, I was sure I caught several of the girls holding tissues to their noses. “When did you start Googling love poems?” I demanded. 

“I haven't. That was off the top of my head.” Light said blankly, walking to the front. “Tsuki Yorukami. Truth or Dare?”

The game carried on, when Shinta snatched the microphone from Yuri. “Okay everyone, there are exactly two minutes until the end of 2003 and the beginning of 2004. Let’s initiate a countdown, shall we?” He motioned to Kayumi, who switched on the television behind everyone. 

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!” we all chorused. 

Bare toes wiggled in anticipation. 

“Five! Four!”

I could see the muscles on people’s faces and arms begin to tense. 

“Three! Two!”

Somehow, Light’s hand had found mine, and he was looking at me nervously.  _ So even the great Kira can be nervous.  _

“One!”

I was holding my breath. 

“ _ Happy new year! _ ” Everyone screamed at the top of their lungs, as fireworks were dispersed into the sky. 

The first year of Kira. The first time L showed his face. What will 2004 bring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning on writing Naomi's appearance in this chapter, but decided that I could use her as a better plot device!


	11. A Life Saved and a Secret Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A New Year means a new start, but it also unveils new secrets. Naomi Misora has a few secrets of her own that Kimiko is desperate to keep under lock and key, but she doesn't expect to find out that Light knows a few things more than he should...

“I'm going out to buy that history revision book,”  I called from the entrance as I wore my jacket. 

“Kimiko?” Aunt Sachiko called back, “Could you help drop off these clothes at the police station for Soichiro?”

Oh. Right. Naomi Misora. “Sure thing, Aunt Sachiko!” 

“Remember to call his cell phone when you reach, okay? And take care. I don't want your shoulder wound reopening.” she warned, and I bit my lip. 

“Okay, I got it!” I said, relieved that Light wouldn't be able to kill Naomi Misora. 

That was when I heard Ryuk say something like, “Will they even let her drop that off if she isn't directly related to your father, Light?”

I hadn't thought of that. Well, I’d just have to call Light and drag him over if they said I couldn’t drop it off. And… Naomi Misora would probably end up dying anyways.

_ Wait… saving Naomi’s life might mean sacrificing Light…! Wait, there's no way anyone could relate the bus jacking to Light, right? I don't think the driver would remember anything about the other passengers… so I'd be the only one they could ask. That might even happen if they were to see the bullet wound on my shoulder.  _

_ But… if I remember correctly, Penber was tailing Light for the last day on the day of the bus jacking. They would simply ask Naomi for the date, then find out who Penber was tailing at the time. So, Light’s still their only suspect. Still, didn't Penber only say that he showed his ID to “someone” and not “the person he was tailing”? I can talk to her, so how much she knows, and if Light’s life hangs in the balance…  _

_ Wait, what am I thinking? That's despicable; trading her life for Light’s! Who am I to decide whether someone lives or dies? _ I decided to stop thinking about it and let things play out.  _ That sounds like something Near would do _ , I thought, my nose wrinkling. 

As I neared the station, I remembered that L was probably still meeting with the other task force members at the time. Uncle Soichiro probably wouldn't pick up. Still, I left a missed call and a message, “Hey, Uncle Soichiro? This is Kimiko. I’ve brought a change of your clothes, and I’m leaving it with the receptionist. Bye!”

I quickly walked over to the receptionist’s desk, and dropped the bag on it. “I'm dropping these off for Soichiro Yagami,” I said to the receptionist. 

“Hi, Kimiko,” the receptionist greeted. “Here to drop this off for the chief?”

“Yeah, for a second I thought that I wouldn’t be allowed since I’m not directly related to him,” I said, relieved. 

“Well, I’ve seen you and Light around here together enough times to be sure I can trust you,” he smiled warmly. 

“Thanks, uh…” I blushed in embarrassment that I’d forgotten his name. Hanging my head, I said, “I’m sorry, I’m terrible with names and faces…”  _ They didn’t even mention his name in the manga, if I remember correctly. _

“All the receptionists seem the same, I know,” he chuckled. “Oh, well, we’re just small fry after all. Remember last year, when the two of you helped solve that insurance money murder? I was on duty that time, too,” he said. Of course, I  _ did _ remember working with Light to solve the case between a few rounds of Mario Kart and Mario Golf, but I’d never really payed attention to the man. 

“Oh, it must’ve slipped my mind. I’m sorry,” I said, then redirected my attention to the paper he’d placed in front of me. “I sign my name here, right?”

He nodded in assent as I quickly scrawled it down. “So, are you and Light going to try solve the Kira Case?”

“Of course we are. Light thinks we may even be able to solve it before L does.” I said, hoping to snag Naomi’s attention with that one. 

At that moment, the receptionist talking to her raised his voice exasperatedly. “You can trust us, come on. We're part of the NPA too, okay? We promise you, we'll pass your message on to the task force.”

“Umm, pardon me,” I said, turning to Naomi. “My best friend's father heads the task force investigating the Kira Case. If you'd like, maybe I could put you in touch with him?” I asked her, tilting my head slightly. I'd definitely caught her attention. “The only thing is, his phone’s off right now, so it'd have to be later.” I scratched the back of my neck.  _ Please, let her take the bait… _ I pleaded internally. 

She just eyed me suspiciously. 

Internally, I sighed. I'd have to divulge  _ some _ information for her to trust me. “Actually, a lot of people have been quitting the task force since the FBI agents were murdered. I guess they're really understaffed right now.”  _ Damn, I'm copying Light's dialogue exactly.  _

“Uh, Kimiko, I don't think you should be telling…” the receptionist started. 

I shook my head. “You don't… never mind. Still, it’s already practically common knowledge. If she has information regarding the Kira case, I’m sure she’d know already.” 

“Well, yes, but…” the receptionist trailed off, unsure what to say.

“Besides, she’s obviously careful. Because the FBI agents’ positions in Japan were unknown—even to the NPA, and hey still lost their lives, there’s obviously some sort of information leak for Kira to get through, so he’d know about the murders in the first place. That’s why she wants to speak directly to the task force and not take chances.” I finished, smiling politely. 

Naomi turned to me. “Thank you so much,” she said, obviously relieved.

I smiled. “No problem. I’d do anything”— _ not really _ —“to get this case solved. But since my uncle’s probably busy right now, he’ll be able to see my voicemail.” I said, being careful not to say anything incriminating inside the building. There were cameras all over, so I couldn’t risk anything.

“Are you sure it’s all right?” she asked, looking at me inquisitively, probably trying to detect a lie. 

“Yeah, of course! It would be a breach of privacy to just  _ give _ his phone number away—no offense—but I’m perfectly okay with you using my phone,” I said.  _ Why am I even suggesting it? What’s the purpose of all this? I don’t want her talking to Uncle Soichiro just yet…  _

“Thank you so much,” she said again, bowing deeply. 

“Hello, Kimiko,” drawled a voice from behind me. I immediately recognised it as Ryuk’s.  _ Damn, Light must’ve sent him to spy on me just in case something happened at the station. I swear, he doesn’t miss a thing. Especially since he thinks I can’t see Ryuk, that the aforementioned Shinigami would report anything of use to him in a heartbeat. After all, we can’t let this “entertainment” go to waste now, can we? _

“Y’know, I think people are underestimating Kira’s powers. He may have a greater scope of abilities that are slithering undetected,” I said, wondering if there was a way to go outside. Sitting down made me feel uncomfortable when I could be walking in the cool winter air. 

Naomi turned to face me immediately. “That’s exactly what I figured. That’s why I’m here,” she said, her tone urgent. 

“You’ve noticed too?”I asked, feigning shock. “I… that is, if it’s all right with you, could I ask what you know?” Before giving her a chance to respond, however, I moved a little closer to her, trying to hide my face from the cameras. “Still, I don’t think we should discuss it in here. My friend and I have helped with cases before, and reviewed the security tapes from all over the police station. With the leak in the NPA, it isn’t the safest place to talk. Ironic that a police station is the last place of preference, but it can’t be helped. Is it okay with you if we talk about it outside?”

“Uh, sure,” she said almost hesitantly. 

When I was able to inhale the fresh winter air, I let loose a sigh. “I find it easier to think when I’m outdoors. Plus, less people pay attention to what you’re saying because they’ll take it to be casual small talk. I hope it’s okay with you.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” she responded. 

“Well… I don’t want to sound weird or anything, but you’re Naomi Misora right? The one who solved the Wara Ningyo Murders in Los Angeles?” I asked. 

I could tell she wondering whether or not she could trust me. “Yes,” she said finally. “That’s me.”

Ryuk chuckled. “So you’re exploiting your manga knowledge?”  _ Shut up, Ryuk! _ I hissed internally. 

“I’m Kimiko Yamada. I… well, when I recognised you, I knew you'd have something majorly relevant, so I guess I got curious.” I said sheepishly. “Anyway, I think Kira can do more than just kill with heart attacks. My friend and I think he can also control his victims before their deaths.” I said, trying to remember how much information Light had given away in the manga. 

“That… that's exactly what I think!” Naomi exclaimed. “I didn't think anyone else had…”

“I'm glad to know that I share an opinion with a professional…” I murmured. This was what my life had always been: lying. I'd become so skilled at it over the years, I was starting to doubt my real emotions. 

“But it's  _ more _ than that. He can also kill people by other means. It doesn't have to be a heart attack.” she added, looking me dead in the eyes. 

I looked back at her. “I think so too. It would make sense, then, how he’s able to know exactly what he’s doing and how he can control the people he’s about to kill.”

“Wow, she’s figured Light out! Are you going to tell him, or leave him to his fate, Kimiko?” Ryuk cackled from behind me. 

_ I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Besides _ , I thought,  _ Thanks to what I’d said on the bus that day, hopefully Penber called my knowledge out as suspicious, or at least mentioned it in his report. It would get me a chance to get in with the investigation team, and hopefully I’ll be able to derail their suspicions from Light there. _

“I don’t think anyone else has realised this,” Naomi continued, “but if the police go after Kira with that in mind, I think they they can catch him.”

“Because Kira could test his powers using other means than just heart attacks so it wouldn’t look suspicious,” I completed. 

“Exactly. I’m pretty sure someone I know met Kira.” she stated.  _ Act casual. _

“Met Kira? Isn’t that… a bit of a stretch? Kira wouldn’t reveal his identity, and still, there’s no way any one person could narrow it down to just one suspect…. But even if you’re right, the police would be a tad skeptical.” I said.  _ Light laughed at this part in the manga, right? It seems like something he’d do. _

“I know,” she sighed after a moment’s pause. “That’s why I want to explain my reasoning directly to the task force in detail.”

“But if your friend was the one who met Kira, should he or she be the one going to the task force?” Then, an idea hit me. “Unless… Kira would reveal himself to threaten…. Was your friend one of the FBI agents that came to Japan?” I asked, my tone hushed. 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “He was also my fiancé. He told me he got mixed up in a busjacking. If my hunch is correct, Kira was on that bus.” she finished. 

“I… I’m so sorry to hear about your loss…” I said, feeling a pang of grief in sympathy. 

“Yes. That’s why I won’t rest for a moment until the police arrest Kira. And I’ll do everything in power to help them.” she said confidently. 

“Wait. This busjacking wouldn’t have happened to be on a bus headed towards Spaceland on December 20 th , would it?” I asked. 

She turned to face me, startled. “Yes, that’s exactly the one I mean. If I may ask, how did you know…?”

I smiled sadly, unshouldering the right shoulder of my jacket, revealing the bandage from the bullet wound. “Because I was caught up in that busjacking too.”

Naomi’s eyes widened. For a moment, I thought she believed  _ I _ was Kira, but then she said, “You got  _ shot _ ?” Immediately, I could tell all her suspicions of me being Kira vanished in a heartbeat. After all, Kira wouldn’t try to get shot, right? 

“Yeah, the hijacker started hallucinating and shooting randomly.” I said, trying to brush it off. 

“The thing is, that  _ same _ hijacker was wanted for murder for trying to rob a bank two days ago… he died when he got hit by a car.”

“He died? I didn’t know; I was at the hospital.” I lied smoothly. 

“Yes. And eight hours before that, another criminal was stabbed to death for trying to rob a convenience store.” she said. “Two wanted criminals dying on the same day, and  _ both _ died in accidents? That’s highly unusual.”

“And since Kira only goes for criminals… their crimes seemed rather light as opposed to their previous ones. Kira would normally have killed them for that alone.” I concluded.

“And eight days after that, my fiancé and his colleagues all died. And during those eight days, more than twenty people with some link to crime, including petty criminals, died in Tokyo of heart attacks. But after the FBI agents died, this spate of deaths abruptly stopped. My fiancé… and the convenience store robber… and the busjacker… they were all used by Kira in order to murder the FBI agents in Japan. I’m convinced of it.”

“And the other murders were used to hide which ones were necessary to Kira in his scheme.” I said, trying to volunteer some information. “Still… we don’t have anything incriminating to say that Kira orchestrated the busjacking…”

Naomi shook her head. “Ever since I heard about that busjacking, it nagged at me, so I casually asked my fiancé about it later. He never said who it was, but… he did tell me this. He showed his FBI ID to another passenger. He said he had no choice. He… well, he was on a top-secret mission, which was unknown to the Japanese police. He was under strict orders not to show anyone his ID. He made me swear I wouldn’t mention this, or the busjacking, to anybody. That’s why I’m convinced that he was the one who ended up tipping Kira off to the presence of the FBI in Japan.” 

“Ooh, wow,” Ryuk snickered, “she figured it out. This must be the oversight Light was talking about. But the real question is if you’re going to save Light or this woman.”

“Meaning that the person your fiancé showed his ID to on the bus that day… it had to be Kira.” I finished, once again noting that I was probably copying Light’s dialogue exactly. 

“That’s right,” Naomi affirmed. 

_ This is where Light’s genius rubbing off on me comes into play _ . “Then again, if Kira set the whole thing up, isn’t there a chance that he hid a camera or wiretap on the bus through someone else? We know he can control his victims, so isn’t there a possibility that since he got the hijacker on that specific bus, he managed to hide a camera on there as well?” I asked, knowing full well that my half-baked excuse would do nothing to derail her suspicions.

Still, she hesitated slightly. “That  _ is _ possible, but it’s unlikely. I don’t think Kira would entrust the name of a potential threat to a random civilian.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” I sighed. It was a terrible excuse anyway. 

“I think I'll go back. Someone must be there by now,” Naomi commented. 

“Maybe. I guess it's always best to check,” I replied, and she shot me a warm smile in response. I knew immediately that I had played my cards right. 

After a few moments’ silence, she said, “Kira will definitely be caught, right?”

I hated the idea. It would mean Light being sentenced to death.  _ No way _ , I thought. “Absolutely.”

_ I just hope this ends well. It's obvious that she doesn't know whether Raye showed his ID to the person he was tailing, but suspects it. Because I was there at the scene, and technically am innocent, I can deny that both Light and I saw his ID. This seems to be working out fine. I didn't recognise anyone else on that bus, meaning none of them would have recognised me—or Light. Now, if I can mess with the storyline a bit more… _

“Would it be all right with you if I came with you to the task force office? I was present during the busjacking…”  _ I didn't think this through.  _

“Okay,” she said, unfazed.  _ I guess years of acting in front of everyone pays off.  _

At that moment, I realised that  _ no one _ actually  _ knew  _ me for who I was; what I was. Light didn't know the truth about me; no one did. Apart from Ryuk, but Ryuk didn’t know  _ me _ . 

It was then that Naomi’s phone chimed with an email. Her eyes widened as she read it through. “Oh, no,” she muttered. 

I cocked my head sideways. “What’s wrong?” I asked, genuinely curious. 

“I’ve been recalled by the FBI…” she murmured. 

My eyes widened. “You… do you have a job here?”

She shook her head no. “Raye and I were planning on moving back to America after this ordeal. Now that he’s… gone, I don’t have anywhere to go,” she said, and I felt my heart tear into tiny pieces. 

“I can work on the Kira case for you,” I said. “My friend and I are working tirelessly to catch Kira now, and if I could keep in contact with you, and you take your job, it could still work. All I’d need is your email,” I said. I’ll admit I was slightly hesitant to see her go, especially after all that had been discussed. “If we could find a way to contact L, maybe we could get a message directly to him. That way, the case can be solved even faster.”

“I’ve worked under him before,” she commented. “I might be able to get a hold of him.”

“Thanks, Ms. Misora,” I said, smiling. 

“Naomi,” she said, and, reflecting on it, I think I made a friend. “Here’s my email,” she said, handing me a slip of paper.

I quickly pulled a notepad out of my pocket, quickly scrawling down mine:  [ _ kimiko.yamada.13@gmail.com _ ](mailto:kimiko.yamada.13@gmail.com) . “And mine. I’ll be glad to talk to you later… Naomi.” I said, face flushed in excitement.

_ I literally just saved her life, and luck seems to have it that I don’t even need to confront the NPA about it _ , I thought smugly.

“Ooh, someone got lucky,” Ryuk said from behind me. 

“Shut your big mouth, Shinigami,” I said, albeit without any venom. “I saved a life that Light would have taken, saved Light’s life, and prolonged your entertainment. If anything, you should be grateful. Now let me go buy my history book.”

 

 

* * *

When I finally got back, I reported the task as complete to Aunt Sachiko, and was about to head upstairs to Light’s room, when I heard Ryuk conversing with Light. “...a former FBI agent! And she had you completely figured out! Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk! She used the hijacker and your other test victims as an example, and said that you could use more than just heart attacks!”

“That’s impressive,” Light’s voice came from inside. 

“You were lucky that Kimiko jumped in.” Ryuk continued. I froze.  _ Has he told Light that I know? _ “She started talking to that woman, and managed to get her trust  _ and _ her email. That was because she was called back to America to keep working as an FBI agent again,” Ryuk snickered. “She even said she’d keep in contact, but I don’t think she meant it.”

A sigh sounded from Light. “I think she knows I’m Kira.” My heart jumped in my chest.  _ He knows I know? Why isn’t he confronting me about it? Or better yet, why hasn’t he killed me yet? _

Then it hit me.  _ He isn’t sure I know, and he doesn’t want to kill me unless absolutely necessary. No matter how deluded people believe him to be, he does care. I know he does.  _ I knew I was right. I remembered the uncertainty in his grip during Shinta and Kayumi’s party. I remembered the trusting glance he always would shoot me. I remember the warmth in his embraces, and how I could smell the calming scent of rosewood coming off him when he held me close. Those were not trivial; those were deep, especially from a person like Light. He was hard to get close to, but once you did, he would stick by you through everything, thick or thin.

“Oh, really? Looks like you’re in trouble! Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!” Ryuk chortled. 

Light let out a chuckle. “Actually, I’m not. She trusts me, and I trust her. She’s the only real friend I’ve ever had, and she wouldn’t betray me. I’m sure she knows, and has for a while, but she hasn’t ratted me out. That alone is evidence enough that she won’t hurt me. She… I’ve never trusted anyone so fully before. Dad’s always busy and is hard to talk to, Mom doesn’t really understand me, and I have to set a role model for Sayu. She knows me inside and out.”

“But how do you know she knows?” Ryuk asked. 

I heard Light inhale sharply. “She’s my best friend, and I’ve known her all my life. Besides, why do you want to know so badly?”

“Aw, come on. I won’t ask for apples more than once a day if you tell me!” Ryuk protested. 

“The first day I saw the Death Note. She yelled at me, ‘Don’t touch that!’ After, she never questioned a thing when I became slightly distant to write in the Death Note. There was also the little talk we had in the bus to Spaceland before the hijacker got on. These are all clues, but I can  _ tell _ , too. Human instinct is usually correct. Besides, remember that night when she openly accused me of being Kira when Dad decided to talk about staying on the case? Her way of putting it off as a joke was far too convenient, and that laugh was far too forced at first.” Light said. 

“You are one lucky kid, Light,” Ryuk snickered. 

“I know. And I’m also lucky to have…” 

I didn’t wait to listen to more. My head was bursting as it was. I quickly turned tail and ran back next door to my house. I didn’t rest until I reached the couch, my eyes wide and mind racing. 

I closed my eyes, my body wracking with shudders, when I felt a sharp pain on my back. Instinctively, I turned around. 

Hayato had hit me.

Again.


	12. I Seem to be a Serial Killer Magnet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L's cameras come and go, and Kimiko is more apprehensive than ever. But how will she react when she finds out that she isn't the only one who knows the secrets of the fourth wall? And when the only other person who understands her predicament is none other than one of L's former rivals, how can she navigate her way to safety?

On the eighth of January, school started up again.  I had official permission to stay home, though, at least for another week. Thankfully, my bruises thanks to Hayato over the past few days were fading, and he was on another “business trip”, meaning I could actually have more time to recover. I sat at my balcony, staring out at the street. There was practically no traffic, since everyone was either at work or at school. 

I contemplated the situation at hand. Naomi was safe in America for now, unless Light decided to kill her off anyways, but she hadn’t suspected Light, and there was an aching pain right between my back. Great. Absolutely fantastic. I leaned forward over the railing, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.  _ I wonder when the next major plot advancement will be _ . 

It was at that moment that a cloaked figure that stood primarily in the shadows entered my field of vision. I bit back a smile.  _ Perfect timing, Watari _ , I thought, grinning. He was probably going to install the cameras in Light’s house, I realised, my grin twisting into a grimace. Perfect. That’s exactly what I needed; another layer of self-consciousness to add to the reasons I’ll get into trouble. 

I walked back into my room, flopping on the bed, eliciting a sharp sting from my shoulder. For the umpteenth time, I cursed that idiotic busjacker who couldn’t even fire a gun properly. Seriously, who fires with one  _ shaking _ hand? Absolutely ridiculous. At least if you were to hijack a bus, or anything of the sort, do it properly. 

I was starting to become so blasé about everything in this world. Curse you, stupid mangas. 

* * *

I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes later, I was still half sprawled across the bed with my legs hanging off. Oh, and Light was hovering above me. 

“What do you want, Light?” I mumbled, my voice raspy from sleep. “I’m exhausted.”

His tone was soft as he said, “You’re supposed to get back to the doctors today so they can check up on that bullet wound.”

I sat upright immediately. “Damn, I forgot.”  _ Funny how I can remember the plot of an entire manga but I forget a doctor’s appointment _ , I thought dryly. “Give me a minute to get ready.”

Light waited patiently as I went to change my clothes and brush my hair, and eventually stepped back into the room. “Good to go?” he asked. 

“I want an apple…” Ryuk whined. 

Light made no attempt to acknowledge him. He still hadn’t confronted me about knowing he’s Kira—he was probably waiting for me to make the first move. In his mind, if I didn’t know, he would be giftwrapping himself into either a life as Kira without a friend, slowly to be drained of his sanity, to the police, where a death sentence awaited him, or a life in which his best friend turned into a homicidal psychopath. 

None of those were very appealing. “Yeah, let’s go.” I said, rubbing the back of my neck with my left hand. 

* * *

Long story short: I would have to be back the next day to have the stitches removed. 

“Well,” I said, “this’ll be a treat. Of course, it’ll take a couple of months to heal entirely and to get my arm out of a sling. They said I’ll be A-okay by around… April or May. I can stop using a bandage in March.” I told Light as we left. “Want to go to your house and play some Mario Kart?”

Light visibly paled. “Can we play it at your house?”  _ Oops. I forgot about the cameras… again. What’s with me today? _

“Y-yeah, of course!” I said quickly. “You should probably tell Aunt Sachiko, though. Remember what happened  _ last _ time you forgot to tell?”

Light cringed. “Yeah.” The last time Light had come to my place without telling Aunt Sachiko, both of us had been grounded from meeting for a week—not that it worked. Of course, we went to school at the same time and spent time there. 

So when Light walked through to talk to his mother, I had no choice but to follow, making myself an obvious target for L and his cameras. I could imagine the conversation now:

 

L: “Who is that, Yagami-san?”

Uncle Soichiro: “That’s Kimiko. She’s our next-door neighbor and Light’s best friend.”

L: “I take it she comes over often?”

Uncle Soichiro: “Yes, it’s like a second home to her. She has one of the spare keys. In fact, she probably spends more time there than in her own house nowadays.”

L: “Hm…”

Uncle Soichiro: “What, is she now a suspect?”

L: “If she is around as often as you say she is, then she is as much of a suspect as everyone else currently under surveillance.”

 

My eyes widened.  _ What if L places bugs in  _ my _ house? Would it look suspicious if I suddenly stopped going to their place? I need to come up with some kind of way to tell… Light knows I know about the traps set up in his room—all three, since that incident when we were twelve—but it would look weird if I set up a trap in mine, since Hayato’s never at home… and Light and I are far too close for that kind of thing… could I do the old “place a bucket on the door” prank and pass it off as a prank I was willing to play on Light? I guess there wouldn’t be any harm…. If they do place bugs in my house, it’ll be when I’m at the hospital tomorrow. Wait… since Hayato’s on a business trip, what if they tell me I have to stay where there’s adult supervision? What about the cameras? Oh, gods above, please help me…!  _

“…until you both wash your faces and I change Kimiko’s bandage. Got it?” Aunt Sachiko’s voice trailed through my head. I paled (if that was even possible, considering my skin was so pale already). If L found out about the busjacking… which was what I was trying to avoid all along… then Light would be deeper in than he already was. Goddamn it, the one time I actually manage to change the storyline, it doesn’t work! 

_ Apparently, my existence alone is enough to wreck the storyline. _ I debated running away as I pulled my sleeve up so Aunt Sachiko could change the bandage. I winced—partially out of pain, and partially because of what L and Uncle Soichiro would say when they saw the wound. L would question Uncle Soichiro, who would be utterly astounded at the sight of the wound. Of course, with the both of them being detectives, they would recognise the bullet wound for what it was immediately. I could only hope they were focusing  on Light at the time. 

When Light came back down, I noticed Ryuk didn’t follow. He had probably left him behind to look for all the cameras. Not to mention the fact that Ryuk could be rather annoying when we played Mario Kart rather than Mario Golf. “Come on, Sapphire,” Light said, a smile playing across his face. “I bet I can beat you this time.”

I snorted. “You wish, Coffee.” 

“You two aren’t going over to Kimiko’s house,” Aunt Sachiko warned. “I need you two to stay here because I have to drop this off at Mai’s house and Sayu isn’t staying home alone.”

“Hey, I’m old enough to stay home alone!” Sayu interjected. 

“Not mature enough for when you invite your friends over, though,” Aunt Sachiko responded. “Plus, don't think I don't know about your last math grade, Sayu. Unless you want me to tell your father about it”— _ a bit late now, since he just heard that _ —“you will be practicing.”

“Mom…!” Sayu whimpered. 

“And as for you two,” Aunt Sachiko turned to Light and I, “the two of you will be studying for your exams. Understood?”

Light and I both nodded, and headed upstairs. “Hey, Light,” Ryuk said as we entered the room, “I'm only going to explain this once, so listen carefully. There are two in your air conditioner, one pointing downwards and the other straight across, thirteen on your desk and television, eight on your bookshelf, six on the curtains opposite your bed, four on the curtains on your bedside, eight on the bookshelves beside your bed, four on the cupboards above your bed, three on your closet, nine on and around your bed, and six on the ceiling. They’re pointing in every direction, so there are no blind spots. So that’s it, sixty-four cameras in all. Whoever put them here must’ve expected you to find some. I mean, why else put so many?”

I almost rolled my eyes.  _ So as not to miss a thing. The action could happen in any corner of the room, as far as L knows, and he wouldn’t allow the tiniest thing to escape. Not that that’ll happen. The potato chip idea was ingenious.  _

“Do you have your textbook?” Light asked me.

“So,” Ryuk continued, “where do I get to eat my apples?”

_ Nowhere, Ryuk, obviously _ , I grumbled internally. “Yeah, I left it here last week.” I said in response to Light’s question. 

“Right, you can’t talk to me while you’re in the house.”

“That’s right. I forgot,” Light said, smiling sheepishly, probably half replying to Ryuk, too. “Potato chip?” Light asked, suddenly smirking. 

Suspicious, I looked at the packet and cringed. “ _ Blegh _ , you  _ know _ I hate barbecue flavour!” I protested.  _ Plus, I bet his mini T.V.’s in there too.  _ “What happened to the salt and vinegar?”

Light looked me dead in the eyes. “You ate them last time.” he deadpanned. 

I stuck my tongue out in response. 

I was surprised we actually studied in those few hours. When we exchanged notebooks (oh, wow, the irony), Light pointed out the one mistake I made. “Looks like you need to be more careful, Sapphire. You cubed  _ x _ instead of  _ y _ .”

I took the notebook back after flicking his nose. “Damn, I was so close, too,” I muttered. “And apparently you’re still being ‘Mister Flawless’. All correct.” I sighed. “So… up for a round of Mario Kart?”

“You’re on,” Light grinned. “I’ve come up with a strategy to beat you this time,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh? Do tell,” I teased. 

“You wish, Sapphire.” he chuckled. “You won’t get me that easily.”

I snorted. “You have  _ never _ beaten me at Mario Kart, my dear Light, and I fail to see how this time will be any different.”

A few minutes later, I had buried myself in Light’s bed in embarrassment. “You beat me,” I said, my voice muffled by the quilt.  _ And in front of L, too. _ Then, I added, “I demand a rematch!” My stomach grumbled in disagreement. “…after dinner.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”  _ Ouch. Just remembered The Fault In Our Stars. _

Thankfully, that was the only time Light was able to beat me. I still managed to kick his butt every other time. 

“Light, Kimiko, dinner time!” Aunt Sachiko called from downstairs. 

“Coming, Mom!” Light called back. 

“We’ll be down in a minute, Aunt Sachiko!” I said at the same time. 

Light caught sight of the television and grimaced. “Not another music program. Watch the news once in awhile, Sayu,” Light chastised gently. 

“No, not when Hideki’s on, no way! He’s  _ gorgeous _ ! Why don’t  _ you _ like anybody?” Sayu protested. 

I wiggled my fingers. “He’s secretive. Who knows, he may even end up with a model or something,” I grinned, making Light roll his eyes. 

“Please. I’d definitely choose someone with intellect rather than a model. Not to stereotype, but I definitely wouldn’t want a ditz or an airhead on my side all the time.” Light deadpanned. I almost snickered.  _ Poor you, going to have to deal with Misa Amane. _

“‘NKK news bulletin’?” Sayu read aloud from the screen. I snapped my head up immediately. 

It read,  _ Interpol to send total of 1,500 detectives from various countries to Japan to help solve Kira Case. _

Light snorted. “Interpol is so stupid.”

I feigned a frown. “Hm?”

“What?” Sayu and Aunt Sachiko asked at the same time. 

“Wait… oh, I see,” I said, pretending to catch on as I nodded. “After the FBI agents, who came in secret…”

“Exactly. There’s no way they’d announce more detectives entering Japan. There’s no way this is real.” Light finished. 

“Yeah. I bet this was a ruse to make Kira feel cornered.” I said, smiling enthusiastically. 

“Or possibly pressure him into giving himself up to the police.” Light said, then frowned. “No, he’d know he would be sentenced to death for his crimes.”

“Wait,” I said, adopting a frown as well, “if I were to look at this from Kira’s standpoint, wouldn’t the death sentence be a bit hypocritical?” I asked, voicing my thoughts. 

Light looked me in the eyes. “However, Kira has killed thousands of people. The death sentence is typically warranted for serial killings—”

“Which is also who Kira targets.” I frowned. “I’m not trying to say I believe that he should be given the power to kill, but it’s unfair that a human makes any sort of claim on one’s life. Whether it’s Kira or a judge, we technically should have no right over the decision of one’s life or death.” I sighed. “Still, I can also see what Kira’s trying to get at, but I don’t know whether or not L delivering the death sentence to Kira is fair. I mean, it is what Kira’s been doing, and is being held accountable for. Killing of criminals.”

“ _ Mass _ killing of criminals,” Light corrected, “which in itself makes Kira a criminal. What Kira seems to be moved by is a sense of justice, and is likely thinking that what he’s doing is right. But by doing what he does, he fails to make himself better than any of his victims. If L is hypocritical, so is Kira.” Light finished. 

I blinked.  _ Did he have that argument prepared for a situation like this? And I forgot L and Uncle Soichiro were watching; what are they thinking now? Oh gods, I made myself look like a Kira supporter! Goddamn it, he probably suspects  _ me _ now! _

“Y…yeah,” Sayu said, probably not quite catching on. 

When I got home that night, I lay in bed wondering about all the possibilities that could open. Would L put cameras in my house since Light comes here so often? Or would I be marked as a suspect because of the amount of time I spent at Light’s house and the incriminating things I said? Both? Neither was unlikely. I wouldn’t put it past L to draw me in as a suspect. I felt a bead of sweat run down my face as sleep slowly drew me into its claws.

 * * *

I got back from the hospital the next day saying I was to return to school after. I had no idea whether to be pleased or upset about it. 

“…a radius of a hundred yards.” I heard Ryuk’s voice demand insistently. “I’m positive!” 

I couldn’t pick up Light’s response, though. 

Ryuk continued, “You know they were just bluffing. You’re the one who said that if it were true, they’d sneak them in.”  _ Ha, Light’s bullying Ryuk about his apples _ , I thought, chuckling. As I reached for the key to my front door, I noted that the tiny, imperceptible trap I left before leaving hadn’t been disturbed—it was a strand of my hair, wet slightly and stuck in front of the door and its frame. Normally, a strand of hair would be hard to notice, but since my hair was platinum blonde, it was practically invisible. Anyhow, it was evident that L hadn’t planted cameras in my house. But, to keep it that way, I’d still have to spend as much time with the Yagamis as possible. I was  _ not _ eager to be placed as a Kira suspect.

I opened the door then, getting a strange hint of the smell of cologne. It wasn’t the overly powerful one that Hayato used, and it certainly wasn’t Light’s rosewood.  _ Are there cameras here?  _ I wondered. The smell was eerily familiar yet completely unrecognisable at the same time. I frowned, filing it away for later. Even though the hair trick would occasionally fail—after all, hair doesn’t stick forever—it was still exactly where I would have left it. There was no way this wasn’t suspicious. 

Closing the door behind me, I coughed. 

“Oh, my, oh, my,” drawled a male voice behind me. “Kimiko Yamada, am I right?”

I spun around. Behind me was an L-esque man, tall, with messy dark hair, bad posture, and dark bags under onyx eyes.  _ Too _ onyx. They were undoubtedly contact lenses. He was dressed in the same baggy white shirt and blue jeans that L was typically shown in in the manga. I recognised him immediately, but it was what was in his hands that cinched it. 

A half-empty jar of strawberry jam.

“Beyond Birthday,” I breathed. 

His face broke into a smile. “You  _ recognise _ me!” he said. At that moment, his smile was so bright it was hard to believe I was staring at the face of a serial killer. 

“I… um… what are you doing here?” I asked nervously. I mean, there was a  _ serial killer _ —and one whose mental state was unclear too—in my  _ house _ . 

He pouted slightly. “That wasn’t a nice welcome.”

“I… I’m sorry, I’m just a little overwhelmed,” I said, plastering on a smile that hopefully didn’t look as fake as it felt. “It isn’t every day that a genius shows up inside a house you try to make sure isn’t peeped at. It’s a pleasure to meet you, BB,” I said, awkwardly holding out a hand for him to shake. 

Visibly brightening, he took my hand and shook it. “Well, I’m honoured to finally meet you! Here, would you like some jam?” he asked, holding out his jar. 

“Um, no thanks, I’ve just eaten,” I said. “What brings you to my house?”

Beyond laughed. “Well, when I heard that Misora had bumped into a person with valuable information on the Kira case, I simply  _ had _ to stop by!”

I tilted my head. “But… all the way to Japan?”

“Well, I have to say that a prison in L.A. gets rather boring. But since I tried beating L last time, there’s been nothing fun to do,” he pouted. “So I came here, where he was last. Then, I saw Misora here some time back, talking to you about Kira, and I must say, the swiftness with which you deflected her suspicions was  _ superb _ . Hacking into the FBI’s system was a piece of cake after all this time. It was easy to send her a mail from there before she got your best friend convicted of being Kira!”

_ He saved both their lives, in a way… and here I was, thinking that it was luck that saved Light _ , I thought, my eyes widening. “I…” I bowed deeply. “Thank you,” I said, truly meaning it. “But… if I may ask, why would you save someone who had you arrested?”

Beyond shook his head in a way that was almost fraternal. “You don’t understand. Growing up in Wammy’s House makes you a thousand times more alert than what you could be of threats to your safety. I also did not want to alert L of my presence in Japan…  _ just _ yet. Your friend Light is planning to outwit him as Kira, right? If I as  _ Beyond _ was a distraction, one of us would eventually beat him. As long as L is proven not to be the best, I am satisfied.”

“I have one more thing to ask you: what do you want from me? I highly doubt that this was for a pleasant chat,” I said, choosing my words carefully. 

He chuckled. “Someone’s a cynic. But yes, I do require a place to stay. As I’m aware, your father isn’t usually home, and when he is, he’s apparently abusive.” I stiffened at the mention. “I can see why you haven’t told your friend Light, though,” Beyond said, “because I’m sure he’d be ever desperate to help you. And if Kira killed a person for an unknown reason, it would be extremely odd. They would look into Hayato Yamada, and look into you and him. Furthermore, you and Light are the only ones who know about this—that is, apart from me. And wouldn’t it make it  _ that _ easy for L to find us all? 

“No, I want to beat L. I want to prove to Wammy that manufacturing little Ls in that juvenile prison he calls an orphanage is pointless. Why be an L when you can be a B? Or an A? Why does it have to be L? Do we not have our own choice in our own lives? Can we not be ourselves? If I can prove, just once, that L is inferior to  _ someone _ , that someone has  _ outwitted _ him, then we don’t have to be little mind slaves. Everyone in Wammy’s is to respect L as if he were a king, and to aim to be him.”

“‘But what’s a king to a god?’” I quoted. I was starting to understand B’s viewpoint. They were forced to be like L, and whoever was best would be tossed into a life of seclusion, and everyone else would be discarded.

Beyond’s lips curved into a smile. “Exactly.” Still, the rest of the line played through my head:  _ What’s a god to a nonbeliever? _

“O-okay,” I said, “but Hayato is still a problem.”

“Who said he has to remain one?”

Wait, what?  _ Damn it, is he going to  _ kill _ him? He may be a horrid person, but he  _ is _ my biological father… whether he deserves to live or not is up to me… and what I tell Beyond now. _ “But if you kill him, the police will be here to investigate,” I pointed out. “You wouldn’t have a safe place to hide. What’s the point? Besides, I’ll end up having to move in with the Yagami family,”

“If I may, I’d like to point out that I have gone unnoticed by one of the FBI’s best by hiding silently under a bed. And, the house would still be technically your property. You probably could still live there, though, since your guardians are next door, as long as they check in on you. It would be easy to hide out nearby while the NPA investigates this one. Surely Mello’s novel explained that much.”

“I… guess you’re right, but how did you—?”

“Know about how my story became a published novel in an alternate dimension? How this world is a manga in another universe? How you are a defaulter to Death?” Beyond smiled, pouring the remaining strawberry jam into his mouth. “Let’s just say that the fourth wall has been weak lately. I’m sure your reader will agree.”

“My readers are  _ my _ business. Besides, I’m not the one publishing this online, that’s EmeraldHeart12—” I froze. “ _ What? _ ”

“Fourth wall malfunctions.” Beyond shrugged. Damn you, EmeraldHeart12. “Why else would you be here?”

I sighed. “Do what you need to do when Hayato gets back. I’ll camp out with the Yagamis that night with some half-brained excuse. You can sleep on the couch. No, scratch that, Light has a key. Stay in Hayato’s room; neither of us go in there anyway.”

“Thanks!” Beyond cheered. He seemed far too friendly. Was he really as insane as he was portrayed to be? Or just obsessed?

Either way, I was now friends with two serial killers, an FBI agent who got mixed up in the Kira case and originally put one of the aforementioned serial killers in jail, and was likely a suspect in L’s investigation. 


	13. I See Death, Death, and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beyond Birthday is willing to reveal interesting information, but Kimiko is far too busy to listen. Can she find out the truth before things take a turn for the worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There are mentions of self harm in this chapter. It isn't relevant to the plot, so you can skip it if you wish. It is in Kimiko's dream.

“ _ Oh, my gods, I have exams today! _ ”  I screamed when I woke up. 

Beyond scowled. “You didn’t need to shout it to the world. My ears are sensitive.”

I scowled back. “Well, Hayato’s going to be back, L is going to make an appearance, my best friend’s going to be completely caught up by this entire ordea , and I’ll end up in big trouble.”

“Then, how about this: I take care of Hayato tonight. L will be distracted, so then he’ll take his mind off Kira, ” I listened as Beyond explained his plan to me, ending with: “and when Kira gets me, I can give you my Shinigami eyes.”

“Absolutely not.” I looked B in the eyes he was contemplating giving me. Red. Ruby red eyes, since he hadn’t bothered putting the dark contacts in. I often wondered why his Shinigami eyes were red—usually, Shinigami eyes didn’t show. Eventually, I reasoned it was because he was born with them rather than having made the eye deal.

“It’ll do you more good than me after. Besides, there’s something you should know about your lifespan.” he said. 

I wanted to ignore him, but my curiosity was piqued. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with my lifespan?”

“There isn’t one,” Beyond said plainly. 

Slowly, I turned to face him. “ _ What? _ ”

“It’s as simple as it sounds, Kimiko,” he said, smiling. “Now, you really need to get ready. If you miss your exams, you’ll miss seeing L, and won’t be accepted into To-Oh University.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. I’m going to go shower.”  _ Lifespans show how long a human has to live. They disappear when a person dies. So… if mine isn’t there, that must mean I’m already dead… _ My eyes snapped open.  _ Of course! I still remember dying as Sienna, so since I already died, my lifespan doesn't show! _

When I ran outside, panting after my rush to get ready, I saw Light saying goodbye to Aunt Sachiko and Sayu. 

“You do realise that we may not get enough time to get there, right?” I puffed, trying to catch my breath as Light approached. 

He just shot me that signature devilish smile of his. “You know me well enough to know I hate waiting, Sapphire,” he grinned cheekily. 

I rolled my eyes and pecked his cheek in response. “Well, it’ll be your fault if you don’t get accepted into To-Oh, Coffee,” I said in response. 

“But you, on the other hand, were going to be late without intending to be.” Light argued playfully.  _ Yeah, well, it's not like a serial killer held me up by telling me that I'm technically dead.  _ I thought sarcastically. 

I just poked him in the stomach, exactly where I knew he was ticklish. “Sweet revenge,” I teased. 

He pouted in a way that only Light could pull off. “You wound me, Sapphire,” he whimpered jokingly. 

I laughed, and tiptoed to press a chaste kiss to his nose. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?”

He smiled in response. 

“You two better hurry up; the exams begin in ten minutes!” a man called from the entrance of the hall as he saw Light and I. 

“It’s fine,” Light said in response. “We planned to get here three minutes before they started.” he finished, waving the man off. 

I nudged his elbow. I shot him a look that said,  _ Don't be rude _ . Light just smiled playfully. 

I rolled my eyes, opting to search for L “Hideki Ryuga” Lawliet. It didn’t take long; he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was dressed exactly like he was in the manga, and his hair was just as messy; still defying physics. And, let me say this straight: I  _ did not _ think that the bags under his eyes were actually almost black, but against his pale skin, it looked like he didn’t even understand the word “sleep”. 

Light didn’t seem to notice him as we headed into the exam hall. In the exam, nothing seemed out of place, until—

“You there… number one-six-two,” I heard the invigilator say.  _ Wait, that was L’s _ — _ well,  _ Hideki Ryuga’s— _ number! _ “Sit properly.”

Of course, I turned to look at him. As did Light. I knew I’d made myself as much of a suspect of Light, so I expected his gaze to meet mine; that in a couple of months’ time—if I kept his suspicion—he’d confront me at the To-Oh Entrance Ceremony, tell me “I am L” and judge my reaction, maybe… maybe even keep me under confinement—

He only stared at Light. Light just stared back.

_ Wh-what? How…. Did he tell from my personality? No… L wouldn’t do that… the amount he suspected Light… one percent—not hard to remember a figure like that—and he went full out with the investigation on him; why would he completely ignore me? _ I frowned, filing it away for later. I scrawled the last two answers down, a plan formulating. If I left the plotline alone for now, I could see how things would play out. L’s next move would be somewhere in April—April fifth; that's when the opening ceremony is—so I could step in the inked footsteps ahead of me. After that—

Something poked my arm. I rubbed it, turning to my left to scowl at what it was and who had done it, to see Light with a playful smirk on. He handed me a note, which read,  _ Finished yet, Sapphire? _ in light brown ink; he must have used the pen I have him for when we passed notes and didn't want to write our names for fear of getting caught. 

I rolled my eyes. Pulling out my bright blue pen, I wrote back,  _ Yeah. Meet me outside? _

Light nodded. 

I raised my hand, waiting for the invigilator to come up, then said, “Um, I finished the exam. May I please use the restroom?” 

“All right, but I will be taking you paper to ensure you won't be cheating.” he said. My eye twitched at the accusation, but it made sense. I nodded and made my way to a small area outside. It was quite hidden, but a nice place. There were trees all around it, and you had to squeeze between a couple of bushes, but inside was a completely shielded area from sight, with an old bench no one had bothered to move. It wasn't technically  _ off-campus _ , but was still easy to access from outside school grounds. Light and I had actually been there multiple times. It was like our own treehouse, of you will. Ten minutes later, Light arrived. 

“So, you wanted to talk about something?” he asked, sitting down on the stone bench. 

I briefly debated telling him I knew he was Kira—especially since he suspected I knew anyway—but abruptly decided against it. “I may as well just tell you. I’ve been having nightmares… again.”

Light steepled his fingers. “It’s Hayato again, isn’t it?”

“Wh-what? No! It’s just… hard to sleep. The pain medicine must’ve had—”

“Kimiko,” Light wrapped me up in an embrace as the smell of rosewood filled my nose. “Please… don’t lie to me,” he said, his tone so soft and genuine and so pathetically  _ hurt _ that I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. 

“Yes. Hayato’s gone back to that…  _ monster _ . I-I’m scared, Light.” I pulled his shirt into my fists, rested my head on his collarbone, and let the tears fall freely. “S-sometimes I find myself wishing Kira would kill him, but—but at the same time, it’s so horrible… to wish death on my own father. What kind of person does that make me, Light?  _ I’ve _ become more of a monster than any criminal. Even the most hardened criminal would think twice before killing his own family.”

“But you regret thinking it. You wouldn’t be crying right now if you didn’t,” Light said softly, skimming a hand over my hair. 

For some reason, I just cried harder. “But… I don’t regret the thought. I don’t like what it means, but I… I  _ want  _ him to die. There. I said it.”

“Take off your jacket,” Light said softly, but sternly. From anyone else, it would have sounded rude and uncomfortable, but from Light it was soothing. I nodded and did so. 

Light saw the wide gashes on my arms, some still scabbing over. He saw the white scars that still hadn’t faded over the years, the long cuts that made sleeping hurt. In reality, I couldn’t lie down, because my back was coated in more cuts. Pretending to sleep was agonising. It was why I never did. After the painful halt of the painkillers, the pain became more real, and left me gasping at night even to just turn around. 

I wasn’t okay. Light knew. 

And Light cared. 

And I had unleashed the beast inside him. His face beheld barely controlled rage, murder written all over it. “This isn’t right,” he hissed. “I… I have to tell Dad.”

“No!” I protested. “Your father’s under enough stress as it is. Remember what I said to you on the bus that day? That and the fact that there were only twelve FBI agents in Japan mean that they’ve narrowed their suspects down greatly. If one of them was tailing you or me in particular, don’t you think that your father has enough pressure on him as it is? How would you feel if… say, Sayu, was accused of being Kira? Wouldn’t that be  _ unfair _ ? And add that to this, how would you go on? This has to remain a secret, don’t you understand?” The next words slipped out of my mouth without my approval. “Don’t you care?”

Light looked utterly taken aback. “The reason I’m saying this is because I care for  _ you _ . Kimi, please…”

I looked him in the eye. “I’ll be okay. Just relax, okay, Light?”

“I can’t let him keep hurting you.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. Beyond would try to get Hayato today, so Light couldn’t try anything. Besides, if he did kill Hayato with a heart attack, L would see that as proof that Light is Kira, since I haven’t told anyone else about Hayato. “Fine, I’ll stay over at your place until Hayato’s next business trip. We can plan our next move then.” After a lot of persuasion, Light finally agreed. “We should go back now,” I said, looking at the time. “And I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“I understand.” Light said. 

I went straight to Light’s house after the exams. Beyond should have taken that as a signal to be ready. I still felt despicable about allowing the whole thing, but in the end, Light would have killed Hayato anyway, by accident or disease. 

Before bed, I said that I’d be getting some of my pyjamas from my house. Light offered to come with me. Well, “insisted” is probably a better word. I meekly nodded. Beyond knew to hide if he heard footsteps and I didn’t announce my presence. Or he’d likely already fled. He knew better than to hang around waiting for the police. 

“Do you smell that?” Light asked suddenly as we entered my room. I paused, sniffed, and cringed at the coppery scent of fresh blood. 

“Yeah.” I said, reaching for the doorknob to the master bedroom. Slowly, as if it were a horror movie, I lowered the handle, and swung the door open. Directly opposite the door was a Wara Ningyo doll—B signing his murder. 

On the bed was a gruesome corpse.  _ Hayato’s _ corpse. The clock in the room had been smashed to the floor, still ticking, but the hands didn’t move from twelve. My framed drawing of the cherry blossoms from when I was seven was hanging right behind the door, as it always had, but there was something different about Beyond’s murder. It wasn’t deeply encoded. I was pretty sure that he was planning something big, but he hadn’t bothered to encode many things into this message: all ten of his fingers had been cut off and were stuck to the wall, pointing towards the framed picture. The meaning was clear:

A new beginning. 

Beyond’s next attempt at beating L. My next attempt at living peacefully. Kira’s new grasp on our world. 

My legs gave way. Luckily, Light was there to catch me. “You need to get home where it’s safe. I’ll call the police.”

Somewhere, I found the energy to stand up straight. “No. He was my father. I’m a part of this too.”

“Kimi, it’s not safe. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t lose you either.”

Light seemed to be getting exasperated. “Compromise. Together?”

I nodded. “Together.”

“Just like it’s always been, huh,” Light murmured. Light dialed the police.

“Hey, Light? Can you help me take the clothes back? I need to go find some salve for the cuts.” I said, remembering my side of the bargain. B killed Hayato, in return, I get it to L. 

“Fine,” Light agreed hesitantly, leaving the room. 

The second he was out of earshot, I grabbed my phone and clicked pictures of the room from all angles, and one that was focused specifically on the Wara Ningyo. Hurriedly, I typed an email to Naomi. 

  
  
_ Hey, Naomi, _

_ It’s me, Kimiko. I’ve got a bit of a situation at hand. I’ve attached some pictures. Help me out? _

_ Thanks a lot! _

_ Kimiko _ _   
_ _ 15 files attached: [IMG_7364] [IMG_7365] [IMG_7366] [IMG_7367] [IMG_7368] and 10 more _

  
  
I hit send, and quickly retrieved my salve from the bathroom.  _ That should be good for now _ . Light and I quickly moved my stuff from my house to his, and hurriedly explained the situation to Aunt Sachiko. She decided to come, and Sayu (against all our protests) tagged along too. Sayu was reaching for the door handle when I called sharply, “Sayu, please. Don’t look in there.” Light seconded my statement, as I pulled her back. “Go home. This concerns me the most, and Light and I will be talking to the police. I don’t want you seeing something like this, okay?” I said softly, and, despite her protests, Light and I managed to convince her to go back. 

In the evening, I had Light help me apply the salve. As he spread it over my back, he said, “We’re going to have to deal with everything in court soon. Concerning your legal guardian, and living place. Obviously, you’ll be staying here while the police investigation takes place, but after that, I think they’ll let you stay at home.”    
  
The next few weeks were a pain in the neck. Uncle Soichiro had to stop heading to task force headquarters for a few days while everything in court went on, the funeral was held, and the police investigation dragged on. 

It was why I was only partially surprised when Naomi appeared outside the house I used to live in. 

“Hello again,” she said, smiling. “L reassigned me to this case.”

“Well, he probably has multiple investigations going on at once. It's probably why he's been to solve over forty thousand cases in sixteen years.” I said. “Anyhow, how are you holding up, since…”

“I'll heal. It was your father who was targeted this time, wasn't it?” she asked softly. 

I looked away. “I can't say he’ll be missed,” I said bitterly. “My mom died when I was thirteen and no one misses an abusive parent.”

Naomi inhaled sharply. “ _ Abusive? _ ”

“Since I was eight.” I had no idea why I was telling her this. Maybe since he was dead, I felt like it was allowed. 

“And you never told anyone?”

I shook my head. “No…”

Naomi looked at me, mystified. “You really need to report this.”

“Well, he’s dead now. It can’t possibly do me much good.” I said, shrugging. 

Naomi sighed, and looked away. “I don’t think there’s anything to do until we locate B. We might even have to wait for another murder to take any action.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. 

“Kimi? It’s dinnertime,” Light called. 

“Yeah, I’m coming!” I called back, then said my farewells to Naomi. “Good luck with the case,” I said. 

“And you stay safe.” she sighed. “Japan is getting more and more dangerous by the hour.”

“You too. You’re far more tangled up in this than I am.” I responded. “I’ll be seeing you.”

As I made my way to Light’s room, Ryuk was lying on his back on the floor, tossing apples into the air, then catching them in his mouth. Light wasn't there. I yawned. I trudged over to Light's bed, curled up, pulled the blankets over me, and fell asleep. 

I woke up in what seemed like five minutes. However, it obviously wasn't, since sunlight was streaming through the curtains. I glared at the eye offending brightness, not wanting to wake up. I tried to get up to draw the curtains shut, but something was blocking me from getting up. I looked down, to see Light’s arm wrapped around me. Cuddling wasn't abnormal for us, considering how close we were, but I wanted to  _ shut the damn curtains _ and Light was so cuddly in his sleep that it was just plain  _ annoying _ . 

I then had a brilliant idea. “Ryuk,” I wheezed in my morning voice, “shut the curtains, please.” 

“Do it yourself.” Ryuk replied. 

“I can't.” I said irritably. “I'll start questioning Light on  _ his _ —by which I'm inferring ‘your own’—apple intake if you don't.”

“No!” Ryuk yelped, crossed the room, and drew the curtains shut. I smiled, turning back and snuggling into Light's hold, the scent of rosewood filling my nose, soon making me falling asleep again.

* * *

_ In the dream, the setting was dark. Very, very dark. I was standing in front of a mirror, peering at my reflection. I was Sienna Mason again, with caramel hair and brown eyes. Still twelve. “What in the—?” I muttered, noting my reflection was translucent. I lifted my hands. Yes, some colour was there, but for the most part, I wasn't solid.  _

_ I turned around, exiting the bathroom. It took me a minute to realise I was at a funeral. I phased through the crowd to see five memorable faces in the front. My— _ Sienna’s _ —mom and dad, Anna, Christie, Louis. Mom, Melinda Mason, was crying heavily into Dad’s—Wilbert Mason’s shirt.  _

_ Anna was sobbing on the ground; Louis was clenching his fists, tears leaking out of his eyes; Christie's face screamed bloody murder.  _

_ I noticed with a jolt that it was my own funeral.  _

_ My throat closed up, air being prohibited from my windpipe. I may have undergone a panic attack had my heart been beating in the dream.  _

_ The scene shifted.  _

_ I was then in Anna’s room, who was clutching a framed photograph we had taken when we were ten, back in fifth grade. I was in a My Little Pony onesie, holding up Rainbow Dash’s wings, and she was in a bunny onesie, hands put together in what I had always called her “kangaroo pose”, while she insisted it was a bunny. A few minutes before the picture was taken, I was vehemently ranting about the excess Rainbow Dash merchandise and the severe lack of Fluttershy and AppleJack merchandise, and she was playful teasing me about being so obsessed with a little kids’ show.  _

_ Anna whispered, “I’d listen to your stupid baby show rants and Divergent fangirling if you were back here.” Her voice was hoarse, like she'd spent hours violently denying Sienna Mason's death.  _

_ “Anna, no… besides, you would still complain. Don't worry about me. Please. Be happy.” I said, momentarily forgetting she couldn't hear me.  _

_ The scene shifted again. This time, it was Louis's house. A quick check to the calendar told me that it was still the same day. “Sienna…” was all he said. Tears were slowly leaking out from his blue eyes, which were glittering with grief. “I wish you could come back… I need you… we've been friends since kindergarten; I can't just—I can't just accept that you're gone…” _

_ Then, I was in Christie’s house. Her fiery eyes were growing with a vengeance; one that, if not tempered, would bring her to insanity.  _

_ But her actions would have knocked the wind out of my lungs had I not been dreaming.  _

_ She was holding a knife, slowly dragging it across her arm.  _

_ I screamed some curse words so colourful, a sailor would have blushed. But she couldn't hear me.  _

_ Years flashed before my eyes, Anna growing up, living alone, eyes dull. Louis getting involved with drug dealers and the Occult, trying to bring me back to life. Christie continuing with self-harm, acting as if it was the only escape from grief, joining the mafia at one point.  _

_ They all died at the same time. Anna from starvation thanks to depression, Louis from being poisoned by a dealer, and Christie by assassination.  _

* * *

I awoke with a scream bubbling in my throat, my heart pounding with my hair plastered to my face. 

“Kimiko?” Light swivelled around in his chair, turning urgently to my gasping form. “Was it another nightmare?”

I shook my head, incapable of forming full sentences. 

“Maybe I should…” I didn’t pay attention as Light rambled off a list of possible solutions, far too shaken by what I’d just seen in my dream. 

Did my— _ Sienna’s _ —death really shake my friends up that much? I knew it was just a dream; that none of it could have  _ possibly _ been real, but, then again… I believed that the world of  _ Death Note _ wasn’t real; that it was a work of fiction.

And look where that got me. 

I could feel the hot tears spilling from my eyes, but it was from a distance, as if I was watching it happen to someone else, feeling the tears pour from their eyes. I was partially numb; partially hyper aware. 

What shook me out of my trance was the sudden inhalation of rosewood. I breathed it in by the gallon; I needed the calming smell that was always associated with Light. It was accompanied by warm arms around me, and following by lithe fingers tracing soothing circles onto my back. 

Light was like a drug that I needed to survive.  _ Yin fen _ , I remembered, pulling another information from a book in my old life. I couldn’t remember where it was from. The book was from  _ The Infernal Devices _ , I realised after a few minutes. Jem Carstairs was the one who needed it. I quickly abandoned the pointless thought. 

Mentally, I was twenty-nine, almost thirty. Older than Light, L, B, Naomi… and yet I was still acting like a child. I couldn’t be so dependent.

But another part of myself disagreed. I needed help. People didn’t cry because they were weak; but because they had been strong for too long. 

“You’ll be okay, Kimiko. Everything is going to be fine.” Light’s voice rang through my right ear softly, murmuring reassurances.

I just nodded, my head resting on his shoulder. 

“Take a shower. The water will help clear your mind.”

_ When did you become a therapist? _ I wanted to ask, but my throat was closed up. 

After my shower, I heard Light talking to Aunt Sachiko. “…but this isn’t normal, Mom! She’s had three panic attacks over the past two weeks and she’s almost hit the brink of insanity.”  _ Coming from the psychotic killer himself! _ I thought indignantly, not bothering to listen in for more, but it reached my ears anyway. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”

Immediately my mind flashed back to Anna, Christie, and Louis. I’d indirectly killed them all by dying—at least in my dream. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I would live, if only to steer Light away from a terrible fate. Because, after almost eighteen years of knowing him, I could never condemn him to such a terrible fate. I cared about him far too much for that. 

I would keep myself in tip-top shape, if only for Light. I couldn’t bear to lose him after seeing that.


	14. Happy Birthday, Twisted People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light's and Kimiko's birthdays have arrived, and feel as normal as ever—until, of course, the unpredictable Beyond Birthday decides to lend a helping hand.

I nodded at Sayu, who grinned in response. This was going to be good. It was Saturday, February 28 th , Light’s birthday. Sayu and I had planned to surprise Light—Kimiko-style. I'd baked a vanilla-tiramisu cake and frosted it, while Sayu had taken charge of the brownies and cupcakes. 

Light was still asleep—it  _ was _ 6:00 am on a Saturday morning—but he had begun to stir. 

Of course, we went with the traditional birthday banner, the big chestnut-brown  _ 18 _ , which I had taped to his door, and  _ lots _ of balloons. 

My finishing touches were a small cup of honey on Light’s door, so when he opened it it would pour on him, but now, Sayu and I would throw glitter and confetti all over him. 

Then hug him so he wouldn't be able to get to the shower. 

Oh, and there were the muffins that left a Hansel-and-Gretel trail to his room. 

Light yawned. 

“Happy birthday, Light!” Sayu and I yelled, popping the confetti and coating him with glitter. 

“Wha—?” he sputtered, the glitter probably entering his mouth. He coughed vehemently, trying to get it out, while Sayu and I cracked up. 

“Really funny, guys,” he muttered, his tongue coated in purple glitter. “I need more sleep…” He turned, burying his face into his pillow. 

“Not today, Adonis! Today, we have our schedule laid out for us! We're going to go get ice cream for breakfast, then that video game arcade while avoiding your girlfriends—”

“ _ Girlfriends? _ ” Light looked at me like I had lost it. 

“Fangirls,” I corrected. “They all seem to think they’re your girlfriends. We’ll have lunch at home, and the rest is up to you, until dinner, when your dad will take us all out for your birthday dinner.”

Light mumbled something unintelligible before shoving his face back into the pillow. 

“We’ll pour cheese fondue in your perfect hair if you don’t get up now,” Sayu warned. I can tell you now that she wasn’t lying. There was cheese fondue bubbling away in the kitchen, ready to be poured onto Light’s hair.”

“Pffm frigh’,” Light mumbled into the pillow. I understood it as,  _ Yeah, right _ .

“Light, she’s serious. It’s in your best interest to wake up now before your perfect hair gets sticky.” I saw solemnly. “If you want your perfect fluffy hair to be be spared, you  _ will get up now _ .”

Light turned his head, opened one eye, and glared at me.

I swear, that glare was worthy of an angry evil genius. Fitting.

“I, uh… Light! Stop it and get up!” I hissed, avoiding eye contact. “Sayu― ah, never mind.” I said, seeing as Light was starting to pull the covers off him. 

And then he threw them on us. “Gotcha,” he laughed as I found myself entangled in a blue blanket. 

“Hey!” Sayu protested as we tried to get out. “No fair!”

“And now, I’m going to go for a shower while you two can make your way out of that,” I could practically  _ hear _ his smirk. I then heard the door handle creak.  _ The honey! _ I remembered. “Seriously, you two? Didn’t it occur to you that I’d  _ catch _ the honey?”

“Jerk,” I muttered, then looked at Sayu. “Cheese fondue?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Let’s do it.”

“As soon as Light gets us outta here,” I said, noting that he’d tied the blanket up from the outside. 

“He tied us up in here?” she asked in disbelief. “Cheese fondue and  _ feathers _ .”

“Definitely.”

We ended up waiting another forty-five minutes waiting for Light to shower. He probably took an exceptionally long time  _ intentionally _ to annoy us. 

“I was more than willing to punch you in the face, Coffee, but I’m a nice person, so count yourself lucky that I’m keeping you safe on your birthday.” I said when he got us out of the blanket. 

“If you say so,” Light grinned connivingly. 

I narrowed my eyes. “For now.” 

Light looked undeterred. “Come on, let’s get that ice cream,” he said. “You  _ are  _ paying, right?” His eyes twinkled mischievously. 

“Jerk. Yes, I am, because it’s your birthday.” I grumbled. 

“Then let’s go,” he said, opening the door. “You coming, Sayu?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” she cheered, throwing on her jacket. 

“So,” I decided to to ask, “what flavour are you going to get?” 

“Strawberry, for sure!” 

“Probably vanilla.” Light hummed.

“Bo-ring,” I said. “I’m pretty sure they have a new flavour: cookie dough.”

“They  _ what _ ?” Sayu yelped. “Well, I still want strawberry.”

Light froze on the spot, looking at me in shock.  _ Your number one weakness: cookie dough. _ I grinned. “They’ve made cookie dough an  _ ice cream _ flavour?”

“Hm… I only took enough for one strawberry, one vanilla, and one cookie dough.” I said, looking into my purse. Light gave me the puppy-dog eyes. “Come on! Fine, fine, I’ll let you have the cookie dough.” I grumbled. “Remember, I’m a nice person.”

“Never doubted it for a second,” Light teased. 

“Hey, how am I supposed to respond to that?” I demanded, making Light and Sayu laugh.

It was as it had always been, the three of us teasing each other without a care. 

“One strawberry and two cookie dough,” I said to the guy behind the counter when we got there. “And chocolate syrup on all three.”

The man nodded and got to work. 

“You said you only had enough for one cookie dough,” Light arched an eyebrow. 

I shrugged. “I lied.” The three of us broke out in laughs. “So, happy birthday, Light,” I said, slinging an arm around him. “How does it feel to be eighteen?”

“You could answer that question yourself the day after tomorrow,” Light responded, and I laughed. 

“You two are almost twins,” Sayu pouted. “But you'd probably be a better couple… hm… hey, that's right! The best friends almost always fall in love anyway!”

“Sayu, don't be silly,” Light said, smacking her head lightly. “You know very well we aren't like that.”

“I would have to agree with the guy there,” I agreed. “Can you imagine  _ me _ marrying  _ him _ ? That would make  _ absolutely  _ no sense.”

Sayu blinked at me innocently. “Who ever said anything about marriage?”

Both Light and I started sputtering. “Sayu! You implied it!”

“I just said you'd fall in love. Never said anything about confessing, dating, marriage, or babies. Although…”

“Don't even  _ think _ about continuing that thought.” Light warned. 

“You're right, I'm far too young and innocent to become an aunt.” Sayu grinned. 

“Young and innocent, my foot,” I snorted. “I don't even  _ want _ to think about what goes on in that mind of yours.” 

“Hm… what goes on in my mind? Hideki Ryuga.” she declared. 

“Please tell me you're joking.”

“Miss, here are your ice creams,” the man at the counter cut through the conversation. I quickly paid and picked them up. 

“Cookie dough for you, strawberry for you, and cookie dough for me,” I said, handing them out. “You still didn't answer my question. What's eighteen like?”

“I did answer that you'd find out.” Light teased. 

“Y’know, you really do sound a lot like you're flirting.” Sayu mumbled, taking an exceptionally large lick of her ice cream. 

“Okay then, we're flirting  _ platonically _ .” Light shot back―an odd look in his eyes― and poked his spoon into his scoop elegantly. 

“Coffee, I'm warning you, if you don't eat that ice cream the way it's supposed to be eaten, I'll smash it in your face.” I said, taking a lick of my own, then reached over and snapped the flimsy plastic spoon in half. “Lick it like a normal human.”

Sayu high-fived me. 

Light stared me in the eyes. “But I'm not actually a human.” he said in mock seriousness.

“Oh! My mistake. Now that I think about it… of course! You must be a reaper!” I gasped in false surprise, ignoring the noise that he emitted.  _ Speaking of reapers, where's Ryuk? _

“No, he's too soft to be a reaper. He wouldn't take a life if his own depended on it.” Sayu objected. 

The thought was almost laughable. 

“I am not  _ soft _ !” Light protested. 

“Yeah, and I'm a zombie.” I retorted.  _ Then again, I practically am a zombie. Beyond said I didn't have a lifespan above my head, meaning that I'm dead. I'm a zombie, and Light's soft. Seems legit. Hey, he never mentioned if my name was there. Should I take it to mean that it’s still there? Or did he forget to mention it? I don’t think someone as particular as him would forget. Could he be hiding it on purpose? Then again, what would he gain from that? Or maybe he was going to continue, but I had to run off to the exam? Agh, I can’t remember! It was almost two months ago! _

“Do you think she’ll ever stop spacing out like that?”

“Considering how long we’ve known her… probably not.”

“Hey!” I protested, snapping out of my trance. 

“Okay, she's back with us,” Light confirmed. “On a more serious note, you can't keep getting lost in thought like that, especially when we aren't at home. If you're crossing a road or just being outside in general, you need to stay alert.”

“Yeah, I know. Then again, isn't everything safer with Kira killing criminals?” I said, wondering exactly how Light would react to that.  _ I really shouldn’t be doing this to him. Then again, he does think I know he’s Kira…  _

Light was probably going to respond with another lecture of how  _ you know that Kira isn't after petty criminals and why are you even supporting him, he's causing terror to people and killing isn't the only way to solve things besides, Kira isn't able to get every last criminal and blah blah blah _ when Sayu cut in, “Can we  _ please _ not talk about Kira right now? Your debates are making my ice cream go sour.”

“It's all in your head, Sayu.” Light responded, giving me “the look”. You know, the one where you nod quickly and just agree because he's glaring at you and you do  _ not  _ want to face the consequences. 

“Okay, enough about that. I want to finish my ice cream before it melts.” I interjected, quickly swiping some off Light’s cone with my finger. 

“ _ Yours _ , not mine.” Light muttered. “Why don't you ever take from Sayu?”

“Because I don't like strawberry, Coffee,” I said plainly. “Deal with it.” I briefly imagined myself in the  _ deal with it _ meme that had been so popular when I was Sienna. 

Light muttered something else under his breath, so I flicked a chocolate chip at him. 

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“I thought you loved the koala, Kimiko! It must feel  _ so _ betrayed!”

“One, ‘the koala’ has a name. Two, Light told you that Sienna rejected me, remember? I'm still getting over it.” I retorted, struggling to maintain a serious expression. Apparently, that short speech was enough time for Light to scoop up some of my own ice cream. “Oh, come on! That wasn’t fair!” I protested, but I knew exactly how he’d respond. He’d use my own phrase against me. 

“All’s fair in love and war,” he replied smugly. 

“I knew you’d say that,” I grumbled. 

“As expected, then,” Light grinned, ruffling my hair. 

“Hey! Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you can treat me like I’m a kid!” I protested.  _ Especially since I’m twelve years older than you! _

“Hey, at least there's only one day of this, right?” Sayu said. 

“Two. 2004’s a leap year.” I muttered. 

“Right,” Sayu murmured. Light just smiled softly with false innocence.

“I’m  _ so _ going to get you back. Just wait.” 

“I’m sure you will,” Light laughed. 

I could feel my face turn red in humiliation. “Don’t doubt it,” I warned. 

 * * *

When we finally got back from the arcade, I flopped onto Light’s bed with a tremendous yawn. “Congrats on the win,” I murmured tiredly. “But I can't believe you beat me at Pac-Man. That game is literally six years older than us. And that Sayu beat me at DDR. I'm going to sleep, so wake me up in half an hour.”

“We're all tired,” Light commented. He glanced at his watch. “Dad’s going to be back early today—seven, if memory serves. That means we should start getting ready by half past six.”

“’Kay,” Sayu yawned. “Wake me up then. I'm heading to my room.”

I didn't remember falling asleep, but I woke up at quarter past six, almost falling off the side of the bed, with Light’s arm around me, keeping me from falling. I carefully eased my way back onto the bed, trying to avoid waking Light up or knocking him over. I breathed a sigh in relief as I succeeded. Then, a thought hit me:

_ I could burn the Death Note while he’s asleep. _

If memory served, once a Death Note is burned, the owner loses all memories of the notebook, if he (or she) had written a name in it. Light and I could go back to the way we were: close, no secrets. The world could go back to the way it was. 

Yet something still made me hesitate.

There  _ was _ the reminder that without criminals, the world was safer. And if Kira were to disappear now, those criminals would overcompensate and start maniacal killing sprees, robberies, et cetera. There was also the fact that L would never be satisfied with Kira just disappearing. He would keep looking for the culprit, wanting to place his behind bars, if not sentence him to death. 

Without his memories, and with no trace of a Death Note, Light wouldn’t technically be able to be convicted, but if L did some digging, and found out about the busjacking in which Raye Penber gave his name to his current suspect at the time, Light Yagami, it would be all but a flashing neon sign saying “THIS GUY IS KIRA”. L knew that Kira found out about the FBI’s presence in Japan because of the experiments he ran (the pentagram, the note, and the bathroom, which succeeded), and that he waited a while before killing the FBI agents. L also knew that Raye Penber in particular showed “bizarre behaviour” before his death, which led him to suspect Light in the first place. Since the entrance exams had passed, and we’d technically already encountered L, he was likely already planning to meet face-to-face with Light at the To-Oh Entrance Ceremony. 

Getting rid of the notebook now would leave L suspecting Light, Light absolutely clueless about what’s going on, and me knowing far more about Kira than I should. 

Furthermore, there was the issue of Ryuk being bored. If I remember accurately, Ryuk said “I’m watching this to the bitter end”―or something like that―so he may steal another Death Note from the Shinigami Realm. If he gave it to Light, Light my start the thing all over again. Or, with what would be recognised as “the weapon Kira used”, Light could go searching for the original Kira. And get absolutely nowhere. 

There was also the problem about the hidden scraps of the Death Note paper that he’d hidden around his room, in his wallet, and places I didn’t know of. He could end up picking one up and getting his memories back, piecing the puzzle together of my involvement. A big no-no. 

And if Ryuk found another Death Note and instead gave it to someone else, there could be another mass murderer on the loose, with no Kira to kill him, and L having no way to convict him. 

Damn. 

So, no burning the notebook. Ryuk was as much of a threat as L or Light. Heck, Light was the least threatening to me, thanks to my circumstances.  _ Should I be grateful that the person who would ordinarily be the most dangerous is unwilling to harm me? _ I wondered.  _ No _ , I corrected myself,  _ L is the most dangerous. His means, too, are… unethical. He kidnapped Misa Amane, kept her under confinement, and tortured―he tortured her, didn’t he? I’m pretty sure he starved her and deprived her of sufficient water―her so she would either reveal Kira’s identity or confess to being the Second Kira. Not to mention his own willingness to sacrifice innocent lives in order to catch Kira. _

I highly doubted L was trying to find Kira because it was “right”, but he wanted a challenge. Why, why,  _ why _ was I entangled in this mess? Honestly, would it really have been that hard for me to have  _ lost _ my memories as Sienna? At least then, if I were in the same situation as Kimiko, I wouldn’t need to interfere. In fact, I was pretty sure that my knowledge of the Death Note world helped shape Light as he is now. 

_ Could all of this be… my fault? _ I wondered, falling into an uneasy slumber. 

“Kimi, wake up,” Light said, hovering over me. 

“No,” I said sleepily, “I need five more minutes…”

I ended up in a knee-length purple dress that had sleeves that reached up to my elbows. The bodice had flower patterns embroidered onto it in indigo thread, and the same pattern was repeated on the organza skirts under a violet ribbon.

“ _ Where _ did this dress even come from?” I asked aloud, baffled, after Aunt Sachiko helped me zip up the back. “Heck, I barely even remember buying dresses!”

Aunt Sachiko’s eyes twinkled. “Your mother had quite the array of beautiful dresses,” she explained. “In fact, that specific one was the one she wore when she and your father had their first―”

“I’m not so sure I want to know,” I mumbled. 

“Date. She was actually nineteen.” Aunt Sachiko finished, ignoring my interruption. “She had been crushing on Hayato since she was fourteen.”

I choked. “ _ What? _ ” Obviously, it had been the man he was before he had lost his job―that extremely kind man who was more selfless than anyone I had known, apart from Light―but still! “So she’d been crushing on him for  _ five years _ before she made a move?” I asked incredulously. 

Aunt Sachiko laughed. “Actually, Chiyoko was quite the drama queen. She was pining over him for that long, and yet it was still  _ him _ who made the first move.”

I gaped. “No  _ way. _ ” 

“Both of them made it so obvious that they liked each other―and yet neither noticed it. In fact, your mother was absolutely freaking out over what to wear when he asked her out until I reminded her of that dress.”

I automatically glanced at the dress I was wearing. “Wow.” I said, still stunned. “I can’t believe my parents were that dense,” I commented. 

“It must run in the family,” Sayu snickered. She was wearing a 

“Sayu!” Aunt Sachiko scolded gently. 

“Hey!” I protested. “I’m not dense!”

“Yeah, right,” Ryuk commented. I’d been trying to ignore him recently, but evidently, it wasn’t working. “Hey, Light, you coming?” he called. 

“Light! Get down here; we don’t have much time!” I yelled. What was taking him so long? Was he seriously sneaking names into the Death Note at  _ this _ time?

“Yeah, I’ll be down in just a sec,” his voice came from upstairs. He emerged from the staircase in a  _ very _ posh suit.

“Light, who's the bride?” I asked in mock shock. 

Light just looked at me, unamused. 

“Oh, silly me, you're so  _ dressed up  _ that I thought we were attending your wedding ceremony rather than your birthday.” I teased. 

Light blushed a bright pink. “Kimi!” he protested. 

“Yes?” I batted my eyelids innocently. 

Light muttered something under his breath, causing Sayu, Ryuk and I to laugh in unison. Aunt Sachiko stifled a laugh. 

The doorbell rang, and Sayu rushed to open it. “Hey, Dad!” she cheered. 

Uncle Soichiro smiled, brightening up the entire room. Light's eager expression when he saw him reminded me of when we were four, and Uncle Soichiro and Hayato—Dad—would tell us stories, before Haya— _ Dad _ lost it, and before Uncle Soichiro had been promoted to being chief of the NPA. I casually slung my arm around my best friend, lending him strength. He returned the gesture. 

“So, where are we going for dinner, Dad?” Sayu inquired. 

Uncle Soichiro looked at me expectantly. I'd asked him last month, and I'd practically begged him not to tell anyone, so I could reveal the surprise. I hummed. “Just an Italian restaurant known commonly as  _ Classic Italy _ .”

Light snorted, disbelieving. “Okay, where are we  _ really  _ going?”

“Classic Italy.”

“Care to explain  _ how  _ you could  _ possibly _ get a reservation in Classic Italy?” Sayu asked. She really was picking up on my attitude. Not a good sign. 

“Sorry, but a professional never reveals her secrets.” I joked, smirking. In reality, Hayato— _ Dad _ had originally planned to celebrate my eighteenth birthday there, and made a prepaid reservation about a month prior, but after a phone call and long explanation, I managed to convince the manager to change the reservation to a table for five at no extra cost. The fact that my father had been murdered recently managed to tug on his heartstrings and take pity on us. 

Not that the Yagami family knew that. 

Light glanced at me in playful suspicion, but I just placed a kiss on his cheek and laughed. His face turned a lovable shade of pink, but he said, “I'll find out eventually, you know.”

“Denser than honey,” Sayu murmured. 

Light's face turned even pinker. “Sayu!” 

“Come  _ on _ !” I protested. “I was able to get us a table at Classic Italy and  _ this _ is how you repay me?” 

Sayu just stuck her tongue out at me, but I didn't even need to look at Light to tell that he was planning something—and it wasn't Kira-related. I'd have to figure him out later. 

When we got there, I could only gape at the menu. “All that different food…”

Sayu was practically drooling. “I think I want all of it,” she murmured. 

Light laughed slightly. “Pasta’s heavy, Sayu,” he said. 

“Mm, whatever. I want gnocchi, and the spinach and cheese ravioli.” I stated. 

Light looked at me skeptically. “You won’t be able to eat that much.”

“Watch me, Coffee.”   
  
As we got back home, I ran straight to the room Light and I shared. “Hey, has the pullout bed been fixed yet?” I asked as we entered. 

“Not to my knowledge,” Light answered. 

Kneeling down, I tried to pull the pullout bed out. 

Bad move. The wheel of the mechanism rolled off the ledge, effectively crushing my fingers under the wood. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…” I cringed. 

Light sighed, almost exasperated, lifting the thing off my hands as I smiled sheepishly. 

_ Wait, I haven’t given Light his birthday present yet! _ “Oh, I just remembered,” I said. “Light, please leave the room.”

Light didn’t even protest as he left, but he cast a quick glance in the direction of the drawer he kept the Death Note in. For some reason, it seemed an awful lot like he was trying to clue me in, considering he already suspected I knew. Shouldn’t he have been trying to derail my suspicions instead of leading me on?

I tried to ignore the thought. 

Reaching into the my closet (I’d gotten my own since I had  _ officially _ moved in), I pulled out the giftwrapped box I had packed for Light, and brought it downstairs. 

“You’re opening mine last,” I said, placing the box on my lap. 

After Light opened the gifts from his parents and Sayu (gods know why Sayu got him a Sherlock Holmes collection), I handed him the box that I had wrapped in coppery reflective paper. 

Light took it, lifting the tape with painstaking slowness and precision, getting us all on the edge of our seats. I was on the verge of snapping at him to  _ hurry up since no one here can take the suspense _ when he finished peeling off the last bit of tape. I’d gotten him a set of (expensive!) fountain pens, a schedule planner for the rest of 2004, and  _ Artemis Fowl: The Eternity Code _ . It had become something of a tradition to give each other a book each holiday, and I decided that Light should read Artemis Fowl since it was one of the greatest series ever.  _ Ever. _ Go read it. Of course, in  _ this _ world and timeline, the entire series wasn’t out yet, and  _ The Eternity Code _ was the last one published.  _ I am an amazing friend _ , I thought proudly. 

_ Yeah, sure. You let your best friend become a serial killer. _

Light’s eyes practically twinkled when he took off the wrapping paper. “Thank you, Kimiko,” he said softly. 

“Hey, you didn't possibly expect any less, did you?” I nudged his shoulder. 

 * * *

“Happy birthday, Kimiko!” I heard at five in the morning of March 1 st . Light and Sayu. 

“Can’t a girl get some sleep?” I muttered. “Y’know, it’s not as entertaining when  _ I’m _ the one being woken up so early.” 

“What goes around comes around,” Light smiles. 

“Damn you,” I groaned as I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Light definitely had the ability to be even a better prankster than myself if he put his mind to it, so I wasn’t taking any chances. And I’d spent my entire life (lives?) pulling pranks. 

“Love you too,” Sayu grinned. 

“Okay, what’s for breakfast?” I asked. 

Sayu laughed nervously, and Light paled. “Uh… oops?”

“No breakfast, no Kimiko.” I said, lying down and pulling the covers over me. I couldn't help feeling a twinge of hurt that they'd  _ completely  _ forgotten to make a birthday breakfast. 

Light just chuckled, and pulled out a tray of scrambled eggs and bacon. My absolute favourite. 

“Light made it,” Sayu grinned. 

“ _ Oh my gods.  _ Light, I absolutely love you. Make me breakfast everyday.” I stated, putting a forkful into my mouth. “This is  _ amazing _ . Light, please?” I gave him the puppy eyes. 

Light looked away. “You'd get fed up if you had scrambled eggs everyday.” he said instead. 

The rest of the day was a fun blur, so much so that I almost couldn’t remember all that had passed. I came back home an exhausted wreck. 

And on top of all that, there were still presents. 

Sayu had gotten me an art kit, Uncle Soichiro and Aunt Sachiko got me a set of bookmarks, and, upon unwrapping Light’s gift, I saw a  _ first freaking edition _ copy of J.K. Rowling’s  _ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix _ . 

“How  _ is _ it that you’re always able to outdo me when it comes to these book copies?” I asked, my breath catching. 

Light just smiled cheekily. “Sorry, but a professional never reveals his secrets.”

“I’m done. I give up. If anyone needs me, I’ll be upstairs reading this work of art.”

“Kimiko,” Sayu asked, following me up the stairs. “Why do you prefer to read books in English rather than Japanese?”

Light, whom had unsurprisingly been silent as a cat, replied, “She’s actually better at English than Japanese. And something about reading it in its true, untainted form.”

“I will make your death look like an accident.” 

“Are you two in the threats part of the relationship now?” Sayu inquired innocently. 

“Sayu!” we cried simultaneously. 

“Not helping,” I muttered at Light. 

“I didn’t plan on saying that at the same time.” Light said. 

Sayu just snickered. 

“Anyhow, if you want, I could read you the Harry Potter series in Japanese. Translated by yours truly.” I offered, trying to change the subject. 

“Nah, I’m good,” Sayu said. 

“Sayu, I swear that if you read it, you’ll never regret it.” 

“Harry Potter is a pretty good series,” Light agreed. 

“Hideki Ryuga’s better.”

“To each their own,” Light muttered under his breath. “I’m going to shower.” 

“ _ I’m _ going to watch another Hideki Ryuga musical.”

“You do realise that you don’t have to announce it, right? Also, Light, if you spend forty minutes showering  _ this time _ , I will make you regret your existence.”

Light just grinned. 

I grumbled about the unfairness of it all as I plopped onto the bed—

Something that sounded suspiciously like a book falling echoed from under the bed. 

“What the hell…?” 

I put down my  _ first edition  _ (Potterheads, I will rub this in your faces forever) book down as I crouched beside the bed and tried to fidget with the pullout. 

It moved out as if it had never been jammed in the first place. 

And lying on the pullout was a copy of  _ Death Note 13: How to Read _ . 

I didn’t even bother questioning it.

I spared a quick glance at the bathroom―Light seemed to be taking extra-long, as I suspected. Thankfully, it worked in my favour this time. I opened it to the first page. Written on the inside of the cover was: 

_ Heard it was your birthday! Happy birthday. I hope this comes in handy. Consider it a thank you for getting me involved with L again. Enclosed with the “True Name Card” is a letter explaining your name & lifespan predicament. Many thanks! ―B _

I Well, now my only problem was hiding it. But other than that, having this was a huge relief. It did include accounts of the dates of important events as well as the specifics of the techniques used. But there was one thing that I had to know: was I in the story?

The first five pages were the usual: Light, L, Mello, Near, Misa. And, sure enough, my page was next. Of course, the first thing I looked at―the first thing  _ anyone _ would look at, really―was the stats. My intelligence was eight― _ I’m as smart as L? _ ―my creativity was nine― _ Damn; one less than Light, L, and Near _ ―my initiative was six―was I really interfering that little?―my emotional strength was nine; made sense. My sixth stat was…  _ clairvoyance _ ? Okay, that was almost stupid. Well, at least there was an explanation for my “knowing the future.” Well, clairvoyance, obviously, was ten on ten. 

But there were more important things to check. 

I quickly flipped to the  _ Story Commentary _ , where all the events and their dates were listed. I was only mentioned during one of the main events that had taken place so far: Naomi Misora’s interference―and there was a picture of Light and I discussing Kira right before the bus hijacking, instead of Light and… he’d gone with Yuri in the original story, right? But after that, everything was as it had been in the canon version of Death Note. 

In other words, I was rewriting the story with a reference. 

Yep, I could do this. All I needed to do was hide  _ Death Note 13: How to Read _ somewhere―preferably in my own house, since it was right next door―and take care for the important dates plotwise. 

I would only open the letter concerning my name and lifespan later; probably around the time Misa would make an appearance. I didn’t want to end up losing the letter. 

Until then, I was set. I had my own secret weapon now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this marks the end of our filler chapters! Well, for the most part. The next chapters will definitely involve a lot more plot. Look forward to seeing L soon!


	15. Right, the Creepy Detective Dude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L's finally making his first appearance, and Kimiko is more than prepared, but Light isn't in favour of her putting herself in danger in this great battle of wits.

Today was the day.  The day I would become a college student. It was also the day that L would confront Light. Was I ready for this?

Absolutely. 

“Can you believe we're finally college students?” I asked Light. Admittedly, I was extremely excited. Even the cherry blossoms were falling, setting the perfect scene. 

“It's definitely overwhelming,” Light agreed. 

“So now you’re college students. Gosh… I’m so proud of you!” Ryuk laughed in the background. Honestly, did he  _ have _ to ruin the moment?

“Hey, Light,” I asked as we filed into the assembly hall, “you’re not the only one giving the freshman address, right?” I had intentionally made a small mistake in a calculation in the chemistry section, just trying to derail L’s suspicion from  _ me _ a little bit―just in case―so I could defend Light from L’s suspicion. After all, if L was to suddenly pull Light from his typical schedule, there was no doubt that I’d question Uncle Soichiro. And, because of that, he’d have to reveal some information to me, considering I was just as smart as his son, and would have come to my own conclusions anyway. Because of this, L would be forced to make some interaction with me. 

I could think for myself, thank you very much. 

“Apparently there’s someone else giving it. I’m surprised you didn’t get everything correct,” Light said nonchalantly, but the edge of a smirk broke through the act. I had no doubt that it was intentional. 

We entered the hall, making small talk while ignoring Ryuk, and sat down in the front row. 

“May I have your attention, please?” a man at the front called, addressing the audience. He was of average height, and looked as if he wished he were anywhere but here. His face was contorted into what was almost a sneer as he read from the paper, causing a double-chin to be visible. 

“He’s not got long left,” Ryuk snickered. I’d have glared at him if it didn’t look so weird. L somehow snagged the seat on Light’s left. Ryuk kept on passing ridiculous comments for another twenty minutes until―

“Next we have the freshman address. Our freshman representative, Light Yagami,” the guy who apparently didn’t have much time left to live said. 

“Here,” Light responded, standing up. 

“Ooh, wow, Light,” Ryuk commented. He seemed to be looking at Light in genuine surprise. 

“And our other freshman representative, Hideki Ryuga.”

A wave of hushed comments rippled through the previous silence. There were a lot of surprised questions and comments about the pop idol, when L stood up, knocking the chair over. Now that I had a closer look at him…  _ sheesh _ . His skin was pale enough to have made him look like a vampire, and the bags under his eyes were so pronounced―despite the fact that his eyes were as wide and dead as a fish’s. His hair was black, but oily, and I spotted bits of flyaway dandruff clinging to the spikes. No, not dandruff, but cotton. It was far too white to be dandruff. How the hell did he get cotton in his hair?

Light almost looked like he was about to cringe. Thankfully, I was the only one who noticed the slight change of expression. 

It was at that moment that I heard a conversation behind me:

“The guy on the right is  _ so _ cute…”

L? Cute? Somehow those two words put together made absolutely no sense. 

“ _ What? _ What’s wrong with you, Kyoko? The guy on the left’s way better looking.”

The first girl―Kyoko―responded, “Yeah, but he’s too perfect. Besides, didn’t you see that blonde girl he was chatting with earlier?”

“Wait, you think they’re dating?” the second girl answered back. 

“Come on, Sayomi, isn’t it obvious?”

I didn’t even bother listening in to the rest of the conversation. Or whatever Light and L were reading off from their papers. They started to walk off the stage, and I was on the verge of holding my breath, waiting for L to―

“I would like freshman representative Kimiko Yamada to come on stage, please.”

I froze for a millionth of a second―why would he ask  _ me _ to come on stage? I’d intentionally messed up a question so I wouldn’t have a perfect score, so what was going on? Nevertheless, I rose from my seat, and settled my expression. “Here,” I said simply, and walked slowly, as Light and L crossed. I could barely make out what they were saying from their hushed voices, but, then again, it wasn’t like I didn’t know already. 

“…anybody. What is it?”

“I am L.”

I walked past, pretending I heard none of their conversation as they shook hands after Light responded with something along the lines of respect. 

I made my way up the stage calmly and stood before the audience as I lifted the paper up. “As one of To-Oh University’s freshmen, I…” I read aloud from the script, not really registering what I was saying—I was far more interested in the conversation between L and Light. “I am your freshman representative, Kimiko Yamada, and I look forward to being here.” I finished, bowed, and resumed my place next to Light. 

“I was  _ not _ expecting to be called up there,” I muttered to him, and we sat in silence for the rest of the assembly, ignoring Ryuk’s jabs. 

“Hey, Light, are you okay?” I asked, staring pointedly at his troubled expression as we left the assembly hall. 

“Huh―? Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a… disorienting thought,” he said, dropping out of his reverie. “I… guess it was a tad humiliating―”

“What, not being the best?” I scoffed, then thought back a few months. “Oh, right. You  _ did _ score first nationwide in the practice exams.” I amended. 

“And you came in a close second.” He reminded me. 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” I said, seating myself on the train. “Second is still second. By the way, what was with that other dude? He looked so out of place that you’d have to wonder whether he actually wanted to be there. Or whether he was supposed to be there in the first place. Also, his name was obviously an alias. I mean, the odds of it being  _ exactly  _ the same name as Sayu’s celebrity crush are so slim it’s nonsensical. You’d think he was hiding something.”

“Yeah,” Light agreed. “Definitely.” 

My phone beeped with a reminder. I muttered something unprintable when I saw what it was. 

Light arched an eyebrow at me, silently reprimanding me for my use of language. I winced. “I need to go fix up my old house and clean it up. I haven’t gone in there since…” I didn’t bother finishing the statement. “I need to tidy it up and get it cleaned so I don’t end up regretting it when I clean up later. I mean, it's already been about three months since I went in there, and I bet everything’s covered in dust. And… well, we’re college students now. I’m going to have to face that place and its memories someday, right? May as well start anew.”

“All right. I guess I’ll see you at dinner, then.” Light said, an easy―yet so stiff―smile on his face we left.

When I opened the door to my house, a wave of nausea rolled over me and bile rose up my throat, the phantom scent of blood crawling up my nose. 

I pushed it down. It wasn’t real. The sooner I got into my head that  _ it’s over, it’s in the past _ , the better. 

I opened my eyes, to see a thin layer of dust coating the house. I sneezed.  _ Stupid dust allergy _ , I grumbled internally. I sighed and turned on the vacuum cleaner and walked it around, watching the dust get sucked in. 

Ordinarily, with such a mundane task at hand, I’d be brooding over the fact that I could never seem to escape my awful luck or that I was probably going to go completely over the edge soon with everything that was going on, but today, I just wanted a moment’s peace, if only from my own thoughts. 

I was a lot calmer than usual.

At least now, I had a way of keeping things under control.  _ Thank you, Beyond Birthday _ , I thought, not for the first time. 

The rest of the evening passed fairly calmly as I cleaned up the house, bought some food for the fridge, and drew some money from Mom’s bank account to pay the bills. It was almost seven when the doorbell rang. 

Of course, it was Light. “Hey, Light,” I said, “what’s up?”

“Thought you might want some help. You’re staying here from today on?” he asked, stepping indoors. 

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I already told your parents, and they’re okay with it, so― Wait, it’s raining! Get inside, you idiot!” I chastised him, dragging him in the living room. Dumping a pair of his clothes and a towel in his hands, I ordered, “Go for a shower. Now.”

“Hey, at least let me help you tidy up,” he argued. 

“Light, you’re going to catch a cold. Quit being a selfless softie and  _ shower _ .” 

Light looked like he was going to protest, but he went in the bathroom anyway. As he locked the door, I let out a huge sigh. There was only one room left to tidy: the master bedroom. I’d avoided the room for too long, and I had to clean it. 

I spent well over half an hour hesitating and trying to debate with myself over the whole thing, my hand hovering above the doorknob the entire time, when a soft pressure landed on my hand. Light’s own. Words couldn’t express how thankful I was to have him there to support me. 

I slowly turned to face Light, as he said, “Hey, it’s okay.” Taking my hand in his, he pushed open the door handle. 

The room was, for the most part, unchanged. All remnants of Hayato’s corpse had been removed, as well as all the bloodstains on the wall. Even the bloody bedsheets had been removed by the police in case of traces of “the culprit”. 

“Well, I certainly think this room could do with refurbishing,” Light pointed out. 

I nodded, trying not to let the phantom stench of coppery blood waft through my nose, and tried to ignore what the walls had once looked like splattered with blood. 

The mental image was far too gruesome. 

Light vacuumed as I dusted the shelves, and while I worked on the bedspread, Light managed to use the groceries I had bought to make a (more than) decent dinner. Of course, I didn’t bother asking when Aunt Sachiko and Uncle Soichiro had given him permission to come here―or taught him to cook, for that matter―but Light was there, and there were no Death Note or Kira or L shenanigans in my head at the moment. 

* * *

  
Two days later, I found Light and L heading into the tennis courts. Of course, since Light and I had stopped going for tennis lessons five years ago, we didn’t really play more than once a month, and even then, it was simple rallying rather than heated matches. So it was rather entertaining being able to see Light play tennis so seriously after so long. 

Of course, though, I was still on edge: Uncle Soichiro was, according to Death Note 13, going to collapse from stress today. Which was why I was going to make a point to ditch Light after the tennis match, and hang around close to the hospital. Still, because I was so on edge, I took great annoyance in the fact that Ryuk had decided to hover next to me. 

“So, who do ya think is gonna win?” he asked. 

I scoffed. “Obviously Light. I mean, L’s pretty good, but I highly doubt he goes and practices much. That and the fact that when Light’s determined, he gets the goal. He’s too proud to lose.”

Ryuk snickered in agreement. 

It hadn’t even been three minutes before a crowd started to gather. 

A guy—likely from the tennis club—looked dumbfounded. “These guys are amateurs?”

I glanced at him. “I don’t know about Ryuga, but Light and I have been playing since we were eight.”

“Wait, you’re their level?” he looked at me, eyes sparkling. 

“Well, yeah. I—”

“Captain!” someone called from behind me. “I thought I’d heard of Light Yagami before, so I looked him up. He was the junior high champion in 1999 and 2000!” He paused to take a breath, then continued, “When he won in 2000, he announced he was quitting once he started high school, and he hasn’t been in a single tournament since,” he finished. 

“National junior high champion… no wonder…” the captain muttered, then turned to me. “What did you say your name was, again?”

“I didn’t. But it’s Kimiko Yamada.”

The other guy’s eyes widened. “But that means that…”

“Yes, what does it mean?”

“You were his partner for doubles matches, right? I’m pretty sure… yes! You’re  _ better _ than he is!” Well, I did have, like, five years more of learning tennis than Light. 

“I’ve lost quite a bit of practice,” I shrugged. “We still play, every month or so, but it’s not half as competitively as we used to play.”

“So hey, what about my Ryuga, then?” the L fangirl—Kyoko—asked. “He’s totally holding his own against this junior high champion. In fact, he’s even better!”

“Kyoko…” her friend muttered. 

“Well, I haven’t even seen Ryuga around here before.” I stated. 

“That’s the thing; I can’t find anything on the guy.” the first person said. 

The captain finally seemed to have registered all what was going on around him. He was practically quivering with anger. “Is this a sick joke…?”

“Huh?”

“On top of having the best scores in To-Oh, they’re  _ all _ great athletes? And those two… they’re dominating the court. I  _ will _ get them all to join the tennis team,” he practically growled. 

“I don’t have a problem joining, as long as Light is,” I said airily, “but you’d have to convince him first. I wish you luck,” I laughed. 

I wandered around the rest of the crowd, not caring to see the captain’s reaction. Of course, there were a bunch of girls  _ already _ fawning over Light. Not even three days into school. 

“Ooh, the brown haired guy is  _ so _ hot!”

“I think his name’s Light,” another girl swooned. 

“I’m in love…”

“Should I ask him out?”

“No way! He’s mine!”

“Oh, he’s so perfect!”

“And so cute, too!” 

“His cheeks look so soft I wanna kiss them!”

“I’m going to propose to him!”

“No! He belongs to  _ me _ !”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. 

“Set! Won by Light Yagami, six games to four!” the umpire called as Light shot the last ball right out of L’s reach. 

L said something to Light, they shook hands—I wondered how much that frustrated both parties—and continued talking as the crowd cleared out. 

“Hey, Light!” I called out, causing the fangirl tribe to stare at me, and muttering things like “first names already?” Duly ignoring them, I added, “I’m going home now. Be home by six. Your mom’s orders.”

“Okay, thanks, Kimi,” he called, clearly oblivious to the girl who were trying to drill holes into me with their eyes.

I’d hate for To-Oh University to have a resident yandere. 

Pushing the thought out of my head, I rushed to the park outside Ibaraki Hospital, right in time to see an ambulance drive in. I quickly ran through the main entrance, asking about Uncle Soichiro.  _ Room 302, room 302…  _ I raced up the stairs, worry fuelling my energy. I pushed through the door, seeing Uncle Soichiro lying down on a hospital bed, an IV drip the only medical equipment attached to him. He was awake, too. 

“Kimiko…?” he asked, surprised. 

“Uncle Soichiro!” I almost threw myself at him, giving him an awkward hug. “What happened? Are you all right? Did—”

“I’m fine, Kimiko. Just overworked, that’s all.” he said calmly. 

“They said—they said you had a heart attack,” I breathed, looking at him worriedly. “The first thing that I thought was—”

“Kira?” he smiled wryly. “I had thought the same thing, but it was just stress,” he confirmed. 

“You’re working too hard.”

“Kimiko… it’s not just the work.” he said, his mood seeming to drop significantly. “Light’s a suspect,” he said, as if he couldn’t bear to hide it anymore. 

“ _ Light? _ A Kira suspect? That’s… ridiculous!” I said, feigning indignance on my best friend’s behalf. 

“I thought so too, but the evidence…” he trailed off. 

“Evidence? What evidence?” I almost demanded, but shook my head. “No; that can wait. You need to recover before you even continue  _ thinking _ about the Kira case.” I said firmly. “I’m going to call Aunt Sachiko and Light, and tell them to come.”

“Thank you, Kimiko. There’s also one more person I’d like you to call—do you remember Matsuda? He came over several times.”

“Yeah, I remember him. That’s it, then?” I quickly dialled Aunt Sachiko’s number first—priorities. “Aunt Sachiko? I need you to come to Ibaraki Hospital, room three-oh-two. I’ll text you the details. Also, don’t bring Sayu.” 

After a quick confirmation, I called the next number I saw—Matsuda’s. I quickly relayed the same information, and then called Light. 

“Kimi, is something wrong?” his voice echoed calmly through the speaker. I moved away from Uncle Soichiro, and lowered my voice. 

“Yes, something is damn wrong, Light! Get to Ibaraki Hospital,  _ now _ .” I said, keeping my voice flat. 

“Hospital? What?” he asked, bewildered. 

I took a deep breath. “Light, your father had a heart attack.” I said, then severed the connection. 

It took about ten minutes before everyone was in the hospital room. Of course, that included L. 

After rushedly explaining the situation, Light asked the question everyone was wondering: “Are you really sure this was just caused by overwork?”

“Light! What are you saying?” Aunt Sachiko scolded sharply. 

“Mom, he had a heart attack. Who wouldn’t make the connection? I mean, that’s the way every single one of Kira’s victims died,” Light pointed out. 

“Well, Kira has enough reason to want this situation to arise. You’re the chief of the NPA, after all, but it doesn’t quite fit.” I interjected. “If Kira wanted the Task Force dead, he’d have waited to get rid of L before trying anything that could lead L on.” I intentionally glanced at L unsubtly when only he was looking. “Kira also has been killing using heart attacks, right? And as far as news reports and online documentation goes, there hasn’t been a public report of a criminal having a heart attack yet and  _ not _ dying. 

“This also brings up the possibility that Kira can give heart attacks, but not all of them are lethal, and this could have been sort of like a warning shot.” I paused for a second. “Kira is, from what I can tell, trying to serve justice with whatever means necessary. When he killed Lind L. Tailor and the twelve FBI agents, he proved that he was willing to go to extremes to achieve his end goal—even if it meant innocents getting in the way. But from Kira’s mindset, killing  _ any _ innocent life is a step off his path. A warning shot like this could make sense, as if he was telling us to back off.”

Light frowned. “But if Kira wasn’t intent on killing innocents, why didn’t he send these warning shots to Lind L. Tailor or the FBI agents?”

L finally decided to talk. “Actually, Light-kun, there is the possibility that Kira has only just gained the power to give non-lethal heart attacks. We know he started killing at the end of November, and now it’s May. He may have been able to further develop his powers over the past few months. There’s also the fact that he may have revealed something to one of the FBI agents and had no choice but to kill them. Lind L. Tailor was also killed on the spot, just a week after Kira first gained his powers. He may have acted out of impulse and killed him on the spot.”

Aunt Sachiko looked like she was about to be sick. 

L turned to Uncle Soichiro. “You head the task force in charge of this case. Kira has more than enough reason to want you dead. A murder attempt by Kira, or a warning… hmm… we can’t rule it out completely.”

“Sachiko,” Uncle Soichiro shifter his attention. “Light’s here now, and anyway, I’m all right. You go on home. And not a word about this to Sayu; I don’t want to upset her. Kimiko, why don’t you—”

I stood up from my chair abruptly. “Absolutely not. I have just as much right as Light does to stay. I’m not going to go.”

Light shifted uncomfortably. “Kimiko, it’s probably better if you do. You should come up with something to tell Sayu so she won’t get worried,” he said, angling his head slightly. 

“Light, I don’t know why you’re suddenly keeping secrets from me. I know for a fact that Sayu won’t need me fabricating any lies to tell her, and I know you know it too. I’m not going.”

Aunt Sachiko cleared her throat. “All right, then. I’ll be back tomorrow with some more of your things. Thanks for coming, Light, Kimiko.” she said, and left the hospital.

I faced L, biting back the urge to smirk as I sat back down in my chair and folded my arms. “Why are you here anyway, Ryuga?”

“As it happens—”

“Sorry,” I amended, “I must have been unclear. I wasn’t asking why you, specifically are here. I want to know  _ why _ you’re here. I mean, if what I heard you tell Light at the To-Oh entrance ceremony was correct, you have other focuses as well, Ryuga.” 

All three of the others looked at me intently. 

“Firstly, the name  _ Hideki Ryuga _ . That’s a name known to everyone in Japan. It can’t possibly be a coincidence. Second, the fact that you didn’t seem to care about how you were percepted at the entrance ceremony. There’s also the fact that I was walking right past while you told Light that you were L.

“But, while that could be played off as a practical joke, the other two factors completely oppose it. If you were L, and suspected Light of being Kira, the name Hideki Ryuga, too obviously an alias, would protect you as long as he didn’t know your real name. If he’d thought that there was a possibility it wasn’t an alias, and tried to kill you then, and the actor Hideki Ryuga died, it would have been a confirmation. It also makes it obvious that you were hiding you name, and the only person in Japan who would need their name unknown is someone who’s likely to be killed by Kira.”

L looked at me expressionlessly. “But how do you know that Kira needs a name to kill?”

I fought the urge to smirk—I’d had this argument planned for weeks. “When Lind L. Tailor was broadcast, there were three things of his that were exposed that were not when you broadcast: his name, his face, and his voice. But Kira requiring a person’s voice to kill someone would be too far-fetched, since I highly doubt that he’s heard the voice of every criminal he’s killed.”

L may have looked slightly impressed—it was hard to tell, since his only reaction was moving his thumb to his mouth. 

“Kimi, please, don’t get mixed up in this—” Light tried to object, but I wasn’t going to have any of it. 

“What, and let you constantly risk your life? Absolutely not. If you’re doing this, I’m doing it too, and I defy you to try and stop me.”

Everyone in the room remained silent, until Uncle Soichiro changed the subject. “I don’t think it was Kira who caused this,” he said. “Well, now that I think about it, being under all this pressure, and the fear of being killed by Kira—I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months. I was asking for it.”

“Having your own son under suspicion must be an emotional strain as well,” L commented offhandedly. 

“You told my father I’m under suspicion?” Light asked, eyes wide with disbelief, a brief flash of shame shadowing his face. Of course, I’d always known how much Light strived to be like his father, admired him for everything, so having L say that he’d convinced Uncle Soichiro that Light was a suspect must have driven an immense spike of pain through him. So much so, in fact, that Light didn’t bother concealing the hurt and embarrassment on his face. 

“I’ve told your father everything. Including the fact that I’m L.” he affirmed. 

“That’s right,” Uncle Soichiro agreed. “This is L. We’ve been calling him  _ Ryuzaki _ so that nobody finds out, but…” he paused for a second, “this is definitely L.”

The expression on Light’s face morphed into one of complete trust, but was schooled into a calm indifference within a second. It almost hurt to watch. 

“So, Ryuzaki… has talking to my son cleared your suspicions?”

“No.” L said bluntly. “To be honest, all his comments regarding Kira were just too on-the-ball. It’s made me suspect him even more.”

I met Light’s gaze, and his cheeks were tinged pink. “Hey, saying that to me is one thing, but don’t say things in front of my father that’ll upset his condition,” he said, his voice an eerie calm. “Try to have a little consideration, Ryuga.”

Uncle Soichiro sighed. I detected some fondness in it for his son, but a lot of it was exhaustion. “It’s all right, Light. An ambiguous answer wouldn’t make me feel any better. I much prefer hearing the truth.” 

“I guess that makes sense,” I muttered. “It would be better to have all the information, so we can get closer to the truth.”

“Exactly. And even though you’re under suspicion, Light, I understand it’s not quite enough to make you an actual suspect.”

“That’s correct. You seem to misunderstand my point, Yagami-kun.” L said. “As I told you earlier, when I say ‘suspicion’, I’m talking about a factor of merely one percent—only a very slight possibility. Let me explain again: Kira murdered the twelve FBI agents who entered Japan. This is clear from the fact that all of them had heart attacks on December 27 th , the very same day they received that file. It is also a fact that Kira had access to task force information. I don’t know how, though it does seem the firewalls on the task force computers were not very secure.”

“That makes sense,” I put in, “but there’s also the possibility that the infiltrator was extremely skilled with a computer.”

“Regardless,” L continued, “there’s a very good possibility that Kira was able to access data from a task force member’s computer. However, though Kira murdered the FBI agents, he has not killed a single Japanese investigator.”

“So you’re implying that Kira could have some sort of racial partiality?”

“Not quite. This could lead us to infer that Kira is related to someone on the task force.” L paused for a few seconds, then added, “Well, I suppose Kira might be capable of murdering a member of his own family… but as a human being, it is unlikely. I suppose we can refer to your earlier point, Yamada-chan.”

“My earlier point?” I’d made quite a few.

“Yes. You said that it was not unlike admitting a small defeat for Kira to take the life of an innocent. This means that he felt threatened by the FBI’s presence.” 

“But there’s also the possibility that Kira didn’t know that there were twelve, and not more.” I said, knowing Light wanted to put in an argument, but since he was already treading unsteady ground, he kept his mouth shut. 

Light keeping his mouth shut. Ha, ha… 

“Then there’s one of the FBI agents, Raye Penber; some of his cations were quite curious, and quite noteworthy.” L paused. “And now even his fiancée, who was in Japan with him—and was a former FBI agent herself—has suddenly gotten involved in a case with one of my former rivals, right after the deaths of the other agents.”

I hadn’t actually thought that L would reveal that much. 

For a moment, I wondered how L would have reacted if I’d told him I had met Naomi, but then again, saying so would require me revealing the conversation we’d shared at the beginning of the year about Kira being able to kill in other ways than heart attacks, so I decided against it. 

“So that’s how you narrowed it down to the Kitamuras and us,” Light concluded. 

“But there’s a contradiction,” I interrupted, putting forward the question that had been nagging at me since the To-Oh entrance exams, “if you’d asked the agents to tail the police and those closest to them, why aren’t I a suspect? I’m pretty sure I wasn’t staying at my own house when the agents died.” Light was glaring daggers at me, but I ignored him. 

“You don’t fit the profile,” L said bluntly. 

I winced; my mental and emotional state hadn’t been at its peak at the time. I’d been far too susceptible to panic attacks.

“Well,” Light said, “my view so far had been that since Kira was operating in the Kanto region, he must be Japanese, and that he couldn’t bring himself to kill innocent Japanese for that reason.”

“Light, that’s ridiculous, but… possible.”

“But if those FBI agents were shadowing NPA personnel and their families, you’re right—there’s a good possibility Kira was among those they were probing, and I happened to be among those they were probing too, so I can’t fault you for placing under suspicion.”  _ That sounded so arrogant. _ “In fact, you’re absolutely right. There are no other likely suspects…” he trailed off. 

“Your powers of deduction are outstanding, Yagami-kun. You’re always precise, and very fast,” L said. 

“I’ll help you with this investigation, Ryuga,” Light said, intentionally using L’s alias, “because my father has corroborated that you’re who you said you were. And”—a shadow passed over Light’s face—“I’ll prove to you that I’m not Kira, because I’m going to catch Kira for you, L.”

I cleared my throat pointedly. “We’ll help you with this, Ryuga,” I added, glaring slightly at Light. Who did he think he was, trying to keep me out of this? 

Uncle Soichiro sighed before Light could object. “Light, Kimiko, you both just concentrate on studying right now. You’ll have plenty of time for catching criminals after you join the NPA.” It was funny how it was already a given that Light and I would take on the same career, I thought to myself, when his words struck me. 

“Absolutely not.” I said harshly. “Kira’s probably going to have completely changed the mentality of the world by the time we graduate, if he isn’t put behind bars as soon as possible. Besides, we all want Light’s name cleared, right?”

“I’m siding with Kimi. There’s still years before we make it onto the police force. And anyway, don’t you remember my promise? I swore that if anything happened to you, I’d make sure Kira got the death penalty. I meant that.” The firmness in Light’s tone would have been impossible to mistake. 

_ The only way he can say it with such conviction _ , I realised,  _ is because he can separate “Light” from “Kira”. Kira is an entity— No. Kira is a concept of justice, in his mind. Light is the person, Light is the hardworking college student.  _

“Kira is responsible for what happened to you, whether directly or not. If there’s any chance that our input can help move the investigation forward, I’ll help out.”

A heavy silence fell over our small group. 

“Yagami-kun?”

“Hmm?” Light turned to face L. 

“What kind of person do you think Kira is? What’s your image of him?” L asked, angling his head to look at Light. 

“My image of Kira…” Light paused, almost as if to think, but continued, “I think Kira is…”  _ Pause for dramatic effect? _ “An affluent child.”

An affluent child…?” L echoed. “I like it. Go on.”

“If, as assumed, he can kill people by just willing it… If a human being kind of power— Well, if it was anyone younger than that, they’d be either too scared by that power to use it, or they’d use it to kill people they knew; people they didn’t like. And, if it was anyone older than that—an adult—they’d only use it for their own personal gain. You could think of tons of ways to use that power and become really rich.”

“Someone in their teens,” I concluded. “Maybe their late teens, when they start contemplating the world around them.”

Light nodded in agreement. “Kira still has some purity about him. He’s an affluent minor, who already has everything he needs. I’d say he’s probably a middle or high school student who has his own cell phone, computer, and TV.”

L paused, and something in L’s empty eyes shifted. “So, according to your profile, Yagami-kun, the most suspicious of our current suspects would be…” L paused, staring into the distance. “Your sister, Sayu.”

Light got up from his chair so fast, he knocked over his chair, sending it clattering to the floor.

I couldn’t help it either; I glared at L.

“What is the  _ matter _ with you? Did you come here to wish my father well, or to finish him off?” Light shouted, finally having lost his composure. Attacking Sayu was, to Light, an invitation to the battlefield. 

“I was only drawing the obvious conclusion from your own speculations, Yagami-kun,” L just said, moving his index finger to his mouth rather than his thumb.

Light’s eyes flashed murderously. 

“Light, sit down,” I snapped. “We all know that  _ Sayu _ of all people could never be Kira. She watches chick flicks and musicals, and obsesses over actors. She doesn’t come  _ close _ to fitting Kira’s  _ modus operandi. _ ”

“She’s right,” Uncle Soichiro stepped in. “Even so, nothing you’re going to faze me at this stage in the game.”  _ Game, huh…? _ “But if you’re fighting, take it outside.”

“Or better yet, just try to get along,” I muttered under my breath. Ryuk just laughed. 

“This might just sound like a fond father talking, but, as Kimiko said, I'm absolutely certain that Sayu isn't Kira. If anything, she’s the type who’d kill someone she didn't like, and then cry her head off about it,” he said. 

“You're right,” L said, leaning forward even further. It was a miracle he hadn’t fallen off yet.

“Notice neither of them said, ‘I’ certain that Light isn't Kira’,  _ hyuk, hyuk _ ,” Ryuk chuckled. Gods knew who he was talking to.

“Kira is evil; there's no denying that,” Uncle Soichiro stated, “but lately, I've been starting to think of it like this: The real evil is the power to kill people. Someone who finds himself with that power is cursed. No matter how you use it, anything obtained by killing people can never bring true happiness.”

“You're absolutely right, Yagami-san. If Kira is an ordinary human being who somehow gained this power, he is a very unfortunate person.” L agreed readily. 

I bristled. L didn't solve cases because it was right. He solved cases to ease his boredom. 

“Ryuzaki.” We all turned to look at Uncle Soichiro. “I'm sorry about collapsing like this, but I'll be back at work as soon as I can.”

I internally facepalmed.

“What are you talking about, Dad? You need to rest until you're fully recovered,” Light protested. 

“He’s right, Yagami-san.” L agreed. 

“You can't risk your health now. It's far too dangerous,” I put in. 

“No. I'm not sitting here twiddling my thumbs with Kira on the loose. I'm going to get him if it's the last thing I do.”

I winced. 

A nurse knocked on the door. “Visiting hours are over. You'll have to go now.”

We thanked her, wished Uncle Soichiro goodnight, and left the hospital. Just then, my phone rang. 

“Hello?” I spoke into the phone, casting a quick glance at Light and L. The two were still conversing, and I noted Light’s tone raising. 

“Is this Kimiko Yamada?” a female voice on the other end asked. 

“Yes, may I know who’s speaking?”

“I’m Miko Asa. I know you’re friends with Light, and… I was hoping you could introduce me to him…?”

Not  _ this _ again. “I’m sorry, Miko, but Light’s a bit busy around now. His father’s ill, and so he’s extremely stressed. Maybe another time.” I said, trying to be as vague as possible as I felt Light’s hand fall on my shoulder. 

“O-oh. I understand. Thank you anyway.” she said, hanging up. 

I let out a long, heavy sigh. 

“Something up?” Light asked. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking  _ you _ that? Light, I already know he’s L; I made that clear earlier. You don’t need to worry about me being in danger. I can defend myself.”

Light just stared at me in disbelief. “You really think that’s going to stop me from worrying, Kimi? I worry because I  _ care _ . I could  _ never _ stop worrying about you, no matter how well you can defend yourself, because I lo—”

Light’s phone started ringing, interrupting whatever he was about to say. After a few minutes of rushed assurances to Aunt Sachiko that yes, we’d be home within half an hour, yes, Uncle Soichiro was okay, and no, I was not trying to devise a way to get him out of hospital, Light snapped his phone shut. 

“Kimiko, I don’t want L trying to use you.” Light almost hissed through his teeth. 

“ _ Use _ me? What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean, Light?”

Light let out a breath between his teeth. “Kimiko, L’s used techniques before that are  _ by far _ illegal. I wouldn’t put it past him to torture someone if it meant solving a case.”

There wasn’t a single lie in that—I remembered L’s willingness to confine Light and Misa in the canon story—but his eyes conveyed a hidden meaning:  _ Gods know what he’s willing to do if he tried to get information out of you. _

“I’ll keep my guard up around him, Light,” I acquiesced, “but I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Light let out a sigh, knowing that was all he could do to deter me. 

It was with hesitation that I slowly slitted open the  _ True Name Card _ slot that Beyond Birthday had hidden those important details in, on that night. I looked at the card -- a dangerous weapon as of now, one that could so easily end L Lawliet’s life. 

I shuddered at the thought of how simple it would have been. 

Without a second thought, I burnt the card, the shimmering gold letters the last to go. Withholding a breath, I unfolded the decorative blue card paper that Beyond had placed gently in the envelope, and began to read. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! This chapter is a lot longer than I'd anticipated, but I'm proud. On a more important note...
> 
> Ruling Child has been entered into Wattpad's official Watty Awards! If you like it, please help me by voting for it on Wattpad! Thanks! ^^


	16. I Think I Lie Way Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimiko's iron will isn't going to bend to that of the Second Kira's. And with Beyond's set of information, she's more prepared than ever to change fate's path.

Beyond’s handwriting was surprisingly neat. Well, maybe not that surprising, but I’d expected a scrawled note, not a pretty card. The card was made on baby blue glossy paper, with small blue flower patterns on the border. His handwriting was neat, crisp cursive, written in black ink. The note read:

 

 

> _So, you finally opened it. Well, I won’t waste time. Your predicament is simple: You have no name or lifespan above your head—put simply, to Shinigami, you might well already be dead._
> 
> _This means you need to watch out around someone with the Eyes._

 

It also meant that Misa or Mikami couldn’t write my name down. But that could easily be seen as an anomaly, and something worth investigating. Then again, neither would likely be willing to kill me with their own hands.

 

 

> _Furthermore, as you are already dead—at least to Shinigami—their weapons, the Death Notes, will have no effect on you._

 

I breathed a sigh of relief. But . . . _Could that mean I could tell Light that I know he’s Kira?_ No, waiting was still a better option. At least until Kyosuke Higuchi was arrested. Preferably arrested, and not killed. A Light who wasn’t Kira wouldn’t go insane.

But, then again, with the disappearance of Kira, the crime rate would increase . . . maybe up to three or four times it was before criminals started dying.  I reached over for _Death Note 13_ and flipped to page ninety-six. According to canon, Light would regain his memories on October twenty-ninth. I’d probably approach him then.

 

 

> _Yep, that’s about it. Go save the world. —B_

 

That summed it up pretty neatly. Now, I’d just have to make sure that things go according to plan when it came to the Second Kira’s appearance. Glancing over at the plan I’d jotted down, I went through it one more time, perfecting it and eliminating as many flaws as I could from the information that _Death Note 13_ was giving me. Of course, it would have been impossible for me to have remembered every detail in the manga, so I had to fill in the blanks and create a plan that was a “best fit”, so to speak, so that I wouldn’t end up messing up due to a lack of detail.

* * *

A chill ran down my spine as I made my way to room 302 of Ibaraki Hospital. Aunt Sachiko wasn’t in the room, and the sheets on the hospital bed had been thrown aside. _Damn, I’m too late!_ In the slightest hope that there _might be a chance_ , I ran down the stairs, into the carpark—and breathed a sigh of relief. Uncle Soichiro was making his way over to a police van as my sneakers hit the last step.

“Uncle Soichiro!” I called from where I was. He froze. “Where are you going?”

When he turned to face me, there was a steely determination in his eyes, coupled with rage. “What Kira is doing now is absolutely _unforgivable_ . He’s brainwashing the world. This broadcast needs to be _stopped_.”

Truly admirable, I thought. “Well,” I said confidently, adjusting the basics of my plan, “count me in.”

I knew that if he tried to argue, he’d be losing valuable time, and I knew he knew that too. But the disagreement was written all over his face—especially after seeing Ukita’s death.

“Kira doesn’t know my name, and I’ll pull my hood up so he can’t see my face.” I put in. Besides, it wasn’t like Misa could kill me anyway. She couldn’t see my name, and if—well, _when_ —she found out, her Death Note wouldn’t work. “Time’s running out,” I commented offhandedly.

“Fine,” he said, “but make sure that your face is hidden at all times.

I pulled my hood up over my head and grinned. “Got it.”

Uncle Soichiro smiled conspiratorially—and almost guiltily—at me as I sat in the passenger seat.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.

“We’ll have to convince them to hand over the tapes—by any means possible. Even if it means threatening their lives.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I see.”

“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have resorted to this, but this calls for desperate measures. There are some sacrifices that need to be made when it comes to what’s right.” he said, seeing my discomfort at the possibility of threatening. Or rather, the discomfort I let him see.

“I’ll have to remember that,” I murmured softly under my breath. My phone chimed with a message at that moment.

 

 

> _Light Yagami: WHERE ARE YOU?_
> 
> _Light Yagami: Mom said that both you and Dad disappeared._
> 
> _Light Yagami: At least tell me you're with Dad._  

 

“Busted,” I muttered softly.

Of course, with Uncle Soichiro’s super detective skills, he heard me. “Did something happen?”

“Light’s texting me. He knows something’s up.” I said darkly.

Uncle Soichiro pressed his lips together. “Try and keep it so that he won’t worry.”

“Gotcha,” I said, typing up my response.

 

 

> _Kimiko Yamada: Yeah. He's with me, don't worry._
> 
> _Light Yagami: Where are you?_
> 
> _Kimiko Yamada: Relax, there's nothing wrong. I'll tell you when we get back._
> 
> _Light Yagami: Please tell me you're not doing what I think you are._

 

I didn't respond.

 

 

> _Light Yagami: That's it._
> 
> _Light Yagami: I’m tracking your phone._

 

“He says he's going to track my phone.”

“Turn it off. Knowing him, he'd probably end up running to Sakura TV and get himself killed.” he said, his voice steely.

 

 

> _Kimiko Yamada: turn 2 sakura tv_

 

I sent the message, and switched my phone off. I'd have hell to pay when I got back—Light probably wouldn't let me out of his sight unless it was to use the bathroom now, so hopefully I could camp out at Task Force headquarters with L and Uncle Soichiro and the other people on the Task Force.

_Yeah, I wish. I still have school tomorrow._

The sound of breaking glass was enough to snap me out of my thoughts. Uncle Soichiro shot me a questioning glance: _Are you going to stay in the van or are you coming in?_

I quickly stepped out, gripping my hood tightly despite being still in the building, as Uncle Soichiro pulled his jacket over his head.

A man had come to the entrance, and I idly pulled a lock of my blonde hair that had been peeking out back into my hood.

“Where’s the studio airing the Kira video?” Uncle Soichiro half-shouted, making me wince slightly.

“U-uh, second floor, studio G-6,” he stuttered. Uncle Soichiro nodded, and beckoned for me to follow him. I briefly wondered what the man had made of my own entrance, but brushed it off. I had more important things to deal with.

A flash of yellow peeked out past one of the pillars outside. _Misa’s actually here. I knew it._ Keeping my eye on the windows, I raced up the stairs.

“Police!” Uncle Soichiro declared, throwing the studio doors wide open. “Stop this broadcast immediately!” he shouted, so loud it made my ears ring.

Demegawa just turned to face him, arms crossed and eyes glazed.

“I said,”—his voice took a dangerous tone—“stop the Kira video, now!”

“Just wait a minute, detective . . .” Demegawa stammered. “And, uh, company,” he added, noticing my not-so-subtle steely glare, “if we stop this video, we’ll all be killed. . .”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses! An innocent man is dead!” Uncle Soichiro shouted.

“There’s a police car making their way here from the distance,” I pointed out. “If this doesn’t stop immediately, there’ll be more than one dead innocent man.” I said, my voice clear and cold.

I was threatening them. Gods, that thought scared me.

“Uh . . . um, today’s video just finished . . .” one of the men said.

“So, it’s you, is it?” Uncle Soichiro turned to face Demegawa. “You’re that Demegawa who’s been playing the Kira case for all it’s worth, putting out all those specials in spite of all the warnings we issued? You think the whole thing’s very funny, do you?”

“That’s him,” I affirmed. “Hitoshi Demegawa, age thirty-eight. Date of birth, April fourth, nineteen-sixty-six. Has received a total of thirteen warnings from police officials for exposing unreliable details concerning the Kira investigation. Is an avid Kira supporter and believes that praising him publicly will attract more viewers to Sakura TV, thus resulting in more income. Unlikely to live long due to a failure to understand the consequences of his actions.”

Uncle Soichiro raised an eyebrow, and Demegawa was quaking in his seat. I knew I would owe a huge explanation—one I had already planned out.

“I—I had no idea it would turn into something like this, I swear! Go easy on me, sir . . . and ma’am,” he added, laughing nervously.

 _Ma’am_ , I thought awkwardly. _That sounds so weird. Well, at least he thinks I'm a part of the police force, which gives me an advantage._ “‘Miss’ is fine.” I said anyway.

“That director they said Kira addressed the package to—that was you, too, wasn't it?”

“Yes . . . it was . . . ?” Demegawa said meekly.

“Give me those tapes. Give me the whole package, exactly as you received it.”

“B-but . . . like I said . . . if I do that, we'll all be killed . . .”

Uncle Soichiro reached into his pocket and pointed his gun at Demegawa. “Hand it over. You do that, at least you won't be killed this very minute.”

There were so many shadows of Light— _Kira_ —in those words it was terrifying.

“What the . . . what the heck do you think you're doing? Hey! Are you crazy?” Demegawa almost screamed.

“I'd watch what you say, Hitoshi Demegawa, to a person who's holding a gun to your face—especially when he's the chief of the police.”

Demegawa’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“This,” Uncle Soichiro said, his voice deadly calm, “is the direct result of you putting out all those shows and treating Kira like some kind of star. I’d say you’re reaping what you sowed.” He paused probably debating something in his head, then said, “If, after watching all the tapes, I decide it’s okay to air them, I’ll return them to you.”

Demegawa gritted his teeth, still shaking, then relented. “All right, all right . . .” He went over to a desk nearby, picked up four cassettes, an envelope, and some paper, and plonked them on the table in front of us. “That’s the envelope they arrived in, the two pages of text”—both were printed, and not handwritten—“and the four digital videos. That’s all we got.” The uncertainty in his voice made me skeptical.

Obviously, Uncle Soichiro had the same train of thought as he lifted a cassette to his face. “These do look like they’re the master tapes, but . . . are you trying to tell me you aired the original . . . ?” He froze in realisation, and whipped the gun back out before I had time to blink. “Hand over the copies you made. Every single one of them! And don’t try to play dumb with me!”

“Okay, okay . . . I’ll get them . . . I’m getting them out, all right?” he stammered, leaning over a duffel bag. “Just do me a favour and stop waving that gun around—your eyes are totally insane!”

“Mister Demegawa,” I said coldly, “hiding any tapes would have been pointless. If you chose to air them after a police officer forbade you from doing so, you would be arrested. It is pointless to pretend otherwise. You’re a fool if you don’t realise that.”

Demegawa nodded, handed over the copies to me—he seemed intent on avoiding Uncle Soichiro—and stammered out a few farewells as Uncle Soichiro and I left the studio.

I saw another flash, but this time of fabric. “Uncle Soichiro?” I asked, addressing him casually now that there was no one around to see.

“Yes?”

“I think I saw something.” I lowered my voice. “It may have been the person who sent the videos. If I can get a clear view of their face, we can help move the investigation forward. In the meantime, could you call _you-know-who_?” Voldemort. Or L, either was fine. “There’s no way we could leave the building without being killed without his help.”

“That’s a good idea, but be careful. Please, Kimiko. This is dangerous.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m actually surprised you’re so calm about this whole ordeal. Light’s going to read me the riot act when we get back.” Well, I was dead. “Aunt Sachiko’s going to be pretty upset with your move, too. I’m just lucky she doesn’t know I’m helping with the case,” I added softly before slipping into the shadows, hood pulled back up until I found Misa.

She was making her way to the emergency staircase, her high heeled boots clacking softly against the tile flooring. Why would she wear boots on a stealth mission?

“Misa Amane,” I said, only just loud enough for her to hear me, “Kira number two.”

She spun around, her black lacy dress rising a little bit too high. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice also soft. She didn’t seem as dumb as in the manga, but that didn’t really affect my plans.

“My name does not concern you, Misa.” My sudden use of her first name definitely caught her off-guard. “But your actions concern me. You don’t need to try hiding it from me. I know about the Death Notes, and I also know about your Shinigami, Rem. I would appreciate a word with her.”

Misa kept her eyes trained on me, but after years of being able to decode Light’s acting, I was able to see the twinge of fear in her eyes that she had tried to hide. I suspected Rem was advising her as to whether or not she could trust me.

“I’ll let you see Rem if you take off your hood.” she said after a minute. _Smarter than she lets on._

Well, I had nothing to lose. I pulled off my hood.

Misa gasped as her eyes darted to the area above my head—seeing no name or lifespan there.

“Misa, Death protects me, as Death protects you too.” Unless, of course, Beyond was trolling me and I was just making a huge fool of myself. “You’ve been given an important task here,” I said, playing to her perspective, “as have I. There is a reason I am immune to Shinigami and Death Notes, and there is a reason you and Kira have both gained that power. We are not meant to be enemies, Misa, but allies. You can trust me.” I was trying to appeal to her better side—and hopefully Rem’s too. My manipulation was lot less controlling than Light’s, though, due to my indirectness. “Misa, listen,” I said, walking closer to her and leaning down a few inches so we were eye level. “We have been tasked with protecting the innocent. The Shinigami Gelus saw something in you that no one else knew about, and he knew he would protect you, even if meant giving up his life to do so. Allow me to see Rem, please.”

Misa seemed swayed by my argument, nodding and pulling out the notebook from a purse I hadn’t known was there. “Here,” she said quietly and let me touch the cover of the Death Note.

Rem looked exactly as Obata-sensei had drawn her—tall, looming skeletal figure, with bony protrusions on the front of her shoulders, ivory-white bat wings folded on her back, a long face with a flat nose—not unlike Ryuk’s—purple lips above a streak of the same hue on each side of her jaw, small white fangs, gold hoop earrings, with one eye, the other covered by a bandage that wrapped around her head. The eye had a yellow sclera, with no iris and a cat-like pupil. Her hair was gathered around her head into shiny bunches, the white-to-purple ombré glowing in the moonlight. Rem was actually rather pretty in person. Well, for a Shinigami, at least.

“Rem,” I greeted, “it is an honour to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Rem said, obviously only for the sake of appearances. I highly doubted she meant it.

I glanced at my watch for a second and muttered a soft curse under my breath. “Although I would absolutely love to discuss my concerns, I must leave. Rem should be able to find me fairly easily if you want to contact me. When you can, send Rem with a piece of regular paper that has your phone number on it, so we can communicate,” I said to Misa. “I live here in Tokyo, and attend To-Oh University. That should be all Rem needs to find me, okay?”

Misa nodded, and I turned around, pulling my hood back over my head.

“Wait!” she said after a second. “At least tell me your name?”

I turned to face her. “It won’t work if you write it in the Death Note,” I said, shaking my head.

“No, not for that . . . Misa wants to be able to talk to you. So we can be friends.” she said softly.

I was reminded that Misa was still a broken person, one trying to do what she thought she could to help someone she believed she owed. That she was alone, sans Rem, and had no one to go to. I bit my lip. “It’s Kimiko,” I said, then stepped back into the shadows, running back to Uncle Soichiro.

“Did you find anything?” Uncle Soichiro asked.

I shook my head. “I thought I saw a yellow flash, but I must have been mistaken,” I said, acting downcast.

“That’s a pity,” he said in response. “I was just about to call Ryuzaki, but I thought it would be best if I waited in case you found anything.”

“Thanks,” I said earnestly, smiling at him.

Uncle Soichiro pressed his belt buckle, and his phone started to ring within ten seconds. “This is Asahi!” he said, using his alias. “Get me Ryuzaki!”

I couldn’t hear L’s side of the conversation, but Uncle Soichiro managed to make it clear what was going on.

“That’s right . . . I just couldn’t take it anymore, but I’ve the tapes, all of them. I’m bringing them over. Where are you right now?” Another pause. “I’m fit as a fiddle. Never felt better in my life.”

_He’s had a heart attack a few days ago and he can take this so lightly? The thrill of a good chase really does work wonders . . ._

I didn’t realise I was glaring at him for saying that until a moment after.

“A bigger concern, though: how do I get out of here? I assume the front of the building is dangerous, but maybe I’ll be all right in that van?” _I’m here too, you know._ “Oh, another important thing,” he said, after a significantly longer pause. “Kimiko’s with me. I’ll have to bring her along, and she can go home from headquarters.” he said, then a few seconds later, ended the call.

“What did he say?”

“He said to stay here for a few minutes, then head out through the front door.”

“The front door? I mean, I knew he was . . . _different_ , but that’s _insane_!” I said, pressing my hands to my head.

“Well, we should go now,” he said after a minute when I heard a speaker outside. I pulled my hood back up, just in case.

“All right, stay close together!” The words blared from an overhead speaker. “Do not open the smallest gap! Do not show yourselves! Kira is not here in the building! If he’s here, he’s outside!”

Stepping out, I saw the huge wall of police shields surrounding Sakura TV station. _So we’re in chapter twenty-four: Shield._

I noticed Ide waiting outside a car for us, and shot him a smile in greeting. His expression said: _What are you doing interfering with such a dangerous case?_ He and Uncle Soichiro exchanged a few words, I took a seat in the passenger side of the car, and Uncle Soichiro drove to wherever headquarters was.

“You did excellently today, Kimiko,” he said, and I detected some pride in his tone that filled me with warmth. Because of Hayato’s mistreatment (and assassination), Uncle Soichiro was the primary father figure in my life.

“Really? I think I went overboard with the threats . . .” That wasn’t a lie.

“Actually, you kept a level head throughout the exchange, which was quite mature. But about Demegawa’s personal information,” he said, his voice taking a sterner turn, “where did you get it?”

I smiled sheepishly. Half of it was taken from Death Note 13, but the other half was actually from the police database. “Light’s password isn’t that difficult to figure out,” I said, “and it’s far too tempting to follow up on anything Kira-related that could be found. Sakura TV was airing multiple Kira specials and I wanted to know who was in charge of it and whether or not he’d been told off yet.”

“So you hacked the police database.”

“To be fair, the firewall needs an upgrade.”

He let out a sigh. “I probably would ground you if not for the fact that it helped today,” he said, and I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off. “But that doesn’t mean that you can make this a habit.”

I nodded, then said, ‘You were holding the gun up to Demegawa. Would you have actually killed him?” I asked. The idea was terrifying.

“No, I wouldn’t. At most I would have fired a warning shot, but I wouldn’t have killed him, because it would’ve been pointless. Besides, it sounds exactly like the kind of thing Kira would do.”

“Are you comparing yourself to _that murderer_?” I said, lacing my tone with disgust.

Uncle Soichiro chuckled softly. “There’s a point.”

We reached the room with Uncle Soichiro leaning on me for support. The journey was far more exhausting for him than it was for me. Watari saw and immediately rushed over to help. _Right, I’m not supposed to know him_ , I thought.

“Who are you?” I asked, keeping my voice completely blank, if not a tad suspicious.

“This is Watari,” L said. I was surprised to note that he wasn’t eating anything. “He helps me with my cases.” _Since you seem to have no life skills for yourself._

I caught myself before I could say it aloud.

Uncle Soichiro looked straight at L. “I’m sorry about taking things into my own hands like that, Ryuzaki . . . I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“That’s fine,” L said bluntly. He was still staring at me through those soulless onyx eyes.

Involuntarily, I shivered.

Rather than have L peel apart my existence, I handed the Sakura TV bag out. “The video tapes, the envelope they came in—it’s all here.”

L reached over and took the bag from me, looking through its contents. I took that as a dismissal and switched my cell phone on, so I could tell Light that I’d be there in about half an hour when I left. Matsuda was already calling Aunt Sachiko, though, by the time my phone started up.

“. . . yes, yes . . . The Chief is here with us. He’s resting right now, but he’s all right. Yes, he’s fine.” I didn’t bother listening to the rest of the conversation as Matsuda hung up, though.

Instead, I focused on L. “Aizawa-san,” he started, “could you take this over to forensics?”

“Sure,” Aizawa replied. “I know a lot of the people there. I’m sure they’ll do a great job—fingerprints for sure, if there are any, and if the stamps have been licked, they’ll get DNA from there. They’ll find out where this envelope and the tapes were sold, and even what model camera was used. They might even be able to get other information from the images. Of course, I’ll make them study the tapes without the sound, so they don’t hear what’s said.”

I mentally raised my perspective on the forensics lab.

L seemed pleased too, if his words were anything to go by. “Great, thank you. While you’re doing that, I’ll watch these copies to find out what’s in them.”

I turned to leave the hotel room, so I could go back home and have Light chew me out and just get it over with, and just as I was about to slip into the corridor—

“Yamada-chan.”

I cursed internally.

I turned around. “Is something the matter, Ryuga?”

“Please—it’s Ryuzaki here. And yes, I would like to talk to you in the next room.” he said.

I felt a lump rose in my throat. Being alone with L in a room was a few levels too creepy for me. Heck, being _in the same room_ as L was a few levels too creepy. Nonetheless, I nodded, and followed him into the next room.

It didn’t help that it was a bedroom. _Dark. Why aren’t the lights on? Please tell me I didn’t step into a slice of cake._

L seated himself into the swivelling chair in his squat-sitting position and I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed.

“Miss Yamada.” he said in English. His English voice was actually quite nice. Smooth, and rather soothing. Not that I’d ever admit it.

“Kimiko is fine,” I said, in English too.

L stared at me—probably analytically. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. _His personality type is probably ISTJ_ , I thought. Then: _Great, now random thoughts are taking over my mind. I wish he’d get on with this._

“I do not suspect you of being Kira directly,” he said.

“Directly.” I repeated. “You think I’m in league with Kira.”

“You’re quite perceptive.”

“And because you think that Light is Kira, you think I’m helping him, because I spend so much time with him that I would easily notice a change in his behaviour. Not only that, but I wouldn’t want him to get caught.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“But me telling you all this makes you just suspect me of that even more, because the more information I have, the more likely it is to be true.”

“You and Light think alike.” he said. I noted that he didn’t bother with the honorific in English.

“Being raised together often does that.” I said, my patience wearing thin. “Why exactly are you telling me this? It would definitely put you at a greater advantage to keep it secret and catch me in the act, wouldn’t it?” I could feel my heart pounding harder in my chest. What was L thinking? It was terrifying.

“You know that you and Light are too cautious for that. But I am saying that it would disadvantage me greatly to allow you to let this information anywhere.”

I froze. If my hunch was correct . . . “What are you implying?”

“I am ninety percent sure you’ve already figured it out.”

Oh my gods. He was saying that I stay in Task Force headquarters. “You’re _insane_ ,” I muttered. “Absolutely insane. I still have to attend university! Besides, Light will immediately figure something out if I stop appearing.”

“He already knows this.”

I blinked. “My guess is that he didn’t take it well,” I said.

“That’s quite right.”

“Either way, I still have to attend school.” I argued.

“I expect you to be at headquarters from eight in the evening to twelve in the morning.” L said.

I felt my eyes sting in frustration. L wasn’t giving me a choice.

And I couldn’t exactly say no, could I? He could have me under lock and key with a simple command to Watari. His eyes may have been impossible to read, but the look he was giving me was clear: _You do not have a choice in this matter_ . I was a _hostage._

 _The room is so dark the only thing I can see is his face._ L’s pale face was glowing from the crack of light that shone from the slightly opened door.

“I will see you tomorrow evening at eight in the same hotel.” he said emotionlessly—a dismissal.

I tried not to seem too relieved as I left the room. Because that was terrifying. Once I was out of the hotel room, I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans and finally let out the shiver I’d constantly suppressed in L’s presence. I had walked a few blocks away when something—or rather, some _one_ —tackled me.

Male, I noted. I was about to knee him where it would hurt when the scent of the cologne registered itself in my mind. Rosewood. _Light._ I let out a sigh of relief.

“Kimiko,” Light murmured into my hair, “thank God you’re safe. You _terrified_ me.” Light pulled back, looking over me for any signs of damage. Upon seeing that I was perfectly fine, his face hardened, but his hands remained on my shoulders. “What the hell were you _thinking?_ You could have _died!_ You’re trying to give your life up for something that doesn’t even exist! Why? Why are you trying _so damn hard_ to get yourself _killed_?”

Tears were forming in the corners of Light’s eyes, but he blinked them away as if they didn’t exist.

_I will see you tomorrow evening at eight in the same hotel._

“Home first. I’ll tell you everything then. Can’t risk being overheard,” I said softly. Light nodded, helped me up, and held my hand all the way back to my house, giving me what support I needed. When we finally entered, I kicked off my shoes, sat down on the sofa and let out a frustrated sigh as I peeled off my socks. I carefully sifted through the information I was supposed to hide from Light of my own accord, the information I was supposed to hide from Light of L’s accord (which were admittedly less because I may or not have just wanted to spite L), and the things to my that I would have told him anyway.

“Kimiko,” he said sternly before I could even open my mouth. He held up his phone up, displaying the last text message I’d sent: _turn 2 sakura tv_.

I laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck. “It’s a bit of a long story . . .” _Go on. Take the bait._

“I have plenty of time.”

 _Yes._ I sighed. “When I entered your dad’s hospital room, he wasn’t there, and the television was on, switched to that live news channel—Meirin, I think—so I ran down to the carpark. Your dad was entering a police van, and I . . . well, there was no deterring him, so I accompanied him to the Sakura TV station in case he collapsed again and needed help.

“When we reached, he pulled out a gun and threatened Demegawa—you know the person who’s been constantly running Kira specials on Sakura?—so he would give us the tapes. I threw in a few threats of my own when prompted”—that was a lie, and Light probably knew it—“and eventually he gave us the tapes.

“A few minutes after that, I thought I saw someone lurking around, but when I looked for them, they had gone. Your dad called Ryuzaki—Ryuga, L, whatever—and the police came, fully covered, to form a protective shield around the building so we could get out unseen by Kira. It worked, at least.

“We went straight to Task Force Headquarters, and L pulled me aside after we gace him the tapes and Aizawa—you remember him, right? The officer with an afro?—took them to forensics. They’re a lot better than we thought, apparently. Anyway, L told me something: he said that he suspected that I was in league with Kira, if you were Kira. I . . . I don’t know why he’d accuse me of that, but apparently, he did. So now, I have to report each day to headquarters and stay there from eight to twelve, without revealing anything that happens there to anyone, including you.”

“That _jerk_ ,” Light hissed, clenching his fists. “He _has no right_ over what you do. If he thinks he’s trying to get me to tell him I’m Kira by bringing _you_ into the mix, I—I’ll tear that bastard apart with _my bare hands._ ”

“Light!” I shouted, standing up. “Stop being ridiculous! You’re overreacting! I’m not going to keep secrets from you, no matter _what_ they are!” Lie, lie, lie. “Don’t act like I don’t know that you’re trying to solve the Kira case yourself behind my back, because I’ve _seen_ your diary. So just shut up and listen!”

Light seemed taken aback my outburst. “Sorry, I . . . Continue. Please.”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll be able to tell whether or not I’ve told you anything, which is likely the main reason he wants me to go to headquarters.” I said. Now, to see what Light would propose.

“Then it’s safer if you don’t tell me anything.” Light said.

“ _What?_ ” I had _not_ seen this coming. “Are—are you serious?”

“Kimiko, I don’t care how much it means Kira will be caught, but if it puts you in danger, it’s not worth it. It’s not worth any of it. I don’t care _what_ it makes me, Kimiko, but you’re the _one person_ I can tell anything and everything to, and you’re the only one I can trust with absolutely everything. So no matter what it means, if it hurts you, _it’s not worth any of it._ ” he said, and he looked me in the eyes, let me _see_ the truth for myself, and . . . and . . . he wasn’t lying. His eyes were so _desperate_ for me to see, for me to understand, that I couldn’t pull myself away from his gaze.

He looked so _pathetic_ , so unlike the proud, teasing Light I’d known my entire life here that I had no idea how to respond. I just sat there, unable or unwilling to move.

I’d never seen Light this _vulnerable_. Even when we were little, and something or the other had happened for him to gain his parents’ disapproval, he’d looked hurt, but never at this scale. This was an entirely different person.

I didn’t know what to do, so I hugged him. It took a few seconds, but he put his arms around me in return, and I felt him rest his head on my shoulder as he whispered, “Kimi, I . . . you’re the only person I don’t have to strive to be at my best around. I need to make Mom and Dad proud, and I need to set a role model for Sayu . . . I know it’s selfish, but I . . . I don’t want to have to live a lie—at least not around you,” he whispered.

I petted his hair softly. “Light, you moron,” I said softly. “You absolute _idiot_ . I'm here for you. Always have been; always will be. You _don’t need to pretend_ around me. Light, I’m not looking for a ‘perfect’ person to be my friend, but someone who won’t lie to me or hide things from me. If you want to say something, _just say it_ . I’m here for _you_ ,” I said again. Here for him. Both emotionally _here_ and spiritually in this damned world.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. He was _crying_. Light Yagami was crying.

“Light, don’t cry,” I said softly. I ran my fingers through his hair, letting them softly graze his scalp. “I know everything’s gotten really stressful now, but I know we’ll pull through it. We’ll prove Ryuzaki wrong.” I murmured, allowing his scent to fill my nose. His breaths, already ragged, became even shallower at that. I was scared he’d lapse into a panic attack if I didn’t shake him out of it. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” I asked quietly.

Light nodded into my shoulder. “Please,” he whispered.

This time, I noticed the roles were reversed. Light was breaking down, and I was the shoulder to cry on—literally.

I made my way to the kitchen, going to make something for dinner, when I heard Light walk up behind me. “Should I make something?” he asked.

“S’okay,” I said, grabbing a mixing bowl from the cupboard. “I got this.”

“Kimi,” Light said, bending slightly, “don’t you remember what happened the last time you tried to make dinner?”

The memory of salty miso soup and burnt ohitashi came to mind. I winced. “Yeah, I remember. I’ll order something. You just sit down and take a break.”

“What are you going to order, then?”

“Pizza. Probably from Savoy—you know, the pizza place in Azabu-Juban.”

“Okay,” Light said, hesitantly going back to sit on the couch.

A heavy silence filled the room while I dialled the number. After ending the call, I joined Light on the sofa. “Everything right now . . . the situation we were in—everything’s piling up. And now . . . gods, the stress is just building up.” It was a hopeless attempt to fill in the silence.

“I can’t argue with that,” Light agreed. “It would probably be best to just relax for some time tomorrow. Now that L has of us on his blacklist, neither of us can afford to break down again, but . . .”

“But this on top of everything only going to make it worse. I propose you and I go swimming after classes tomorrow. It’ll be a change after everything that’s been going on recently. Ordinarily, I’d have suggested tennis, but after Ryuga . . . Well, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely a g—” Light was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

After quickly paying the bill, Light and I made our way up to my room (since I still hadn’t gotten quite used to the master bedroom) and laid both boxes of pizza in the center, one stacked above the other, and ate sitting on the bed.

After a short while when we were finished and the room was tidied up, Light and I were lying down, in our pyjamas, with the room lights off and the small night lamp on.

Light pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Thank you, Kimi,” he said as I drifted into an easy slumber.

I woke up to my blasted alarm ringing. Light’s arm was wrapped tightly around me—so he was still fast asleep. “Light,” I said softly, “we have school.”

He just wrapped his arm around me tighter. “We can call in sick,” he said, snuggling closer.

“What’s this? The brilliant Light Yagami wants to skive off school? Whatever has the world come to?” I teased.

“It’s Monday. We don’t have any classes until ten in the morning,” he argued.

I paused. “Wait, seriously?”

“It’s on my schedule, and you and I share the same classes. Now let’s sleep.” I’d forgotten how stubborn and cuddly a sleepy Light was. He opened an eye lazily. “You were the one who said we should wind down today.”

I did say that, didn’t I? “Fine, fine,” I acquiesced, “but in three hours we need to be ready to go.”

“Deal,” Light said as he buried his face into my hair.

The day passed uneventfully. Until lunchtime. I was making my way to the cafeteria when—

“It has been a while.”

I swivelled around, to see Rem towering behind me.

“Rem! You almost gave me a heart attack!” I hissed. “Uh, no pun intended.” I raced to the girls’ bathrooms, Rem following close behind. When I managed to get inside, I let out a long breath of relief. “Did you need something, Rem?”

Rem stared at me, worry clear in her eyes. “Misa is in danger.”


	17. I Finally Come Up With A Decent Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Rem's impertinent interruption, Kimiko's immediately forced to play hero. It pans out in her favour, but L seems to have other plans . . .

The words Rem had just said took a moment to sink in. “What? What happened?”

“People who are willing to take advantage of her are trying to coerce her into joining them somewhere,” Rem said.

I swore. “Where is she?”

“Not far off—just a few streets away from here. I would kill them for her, but—”

“But then you’d die too. Lead me there.” I said, leaving my book bag outside the classroom of my Law Enforcement classroom as I passed it. Light would take it inside for me if I got delayed, so I didn’t need to worry. Rem led me past a few corners into an alleyway, where I saw a mop of blonde hair on a figure that was surrounded by three males.

“What the hell is going on here?” I demanded, standing firmly.

The group of men turned to look at me.

“Kimiko!” Misa’s voice cried out.

“Dude,” one of the men said, his eyes widening suddenly, “this is the chick who got Taku killed!”

This was _Takuo Shibuimaru’s gang_?

“Her? Damn, she’s cuter than the last time we saw her.”

“Should we take her instead?”

“Hell, yeah! Let the other blondie go.” one said, snapping his fingers. Their new leader?

Misa squeaked as the tallest guy let go of her wrist, and she snatched her handbag from the floor and pulled out something black—her Death Note. I watched as she quickly scribbled three names into it and nodded at me.

“Are you sure,” I said boredly, “that you want to mess with me? I do have strong connections with the police, and I know what all of you look like.”

One of them faltered.

“Not only that, but it would only take a minute either me or the woman I just saved to upload a mugshot of each of you to the internet.”

Misa pulled out her phone, playing along as they turned, and one lunged out to stop her, but she skipped out of reach.

“And now, guess who’s most likely to get to you?”

A pause. Forty seconds . . . Now!

I grinned wickedly. “Kira.”

All of them just had time to widen their eyes in shock before they convulsed, keeling over.

I stopped smiling as I looked over to Misa. “Are you all right, Misa?”

“Misa’s fine, thanks to you—they hadn’t tried anything yet. Are you okay?” she asked.

The concern in her tone surprised me. “Yeah, I’m fine. You should get home safely, though. I need to go—I have a class soon.”

“Okay, I'll see you later, then!” Misa cheered.

“Misa, wait!” I said suddenly.

Misa turned around and tilted her head quizzically. “Does Kimiko want something from Misa?” she asked.

“There’s just something I needed to ask you. If you see me with someone and they ask how you know me, just tell them about this encounter—if anyone finds out that I can’t be killed by the Death Note, I’ll be in big trouble. Can you pretend that this is the only time we’ve met? Remember, you can’t even tell Kira.”

Misa nodded. “Of course! Misa doesn’t want you to get in trouble. Misa owes you her life!”

“I am in your debt too,” Rem said from behind me. “I will also keep Misa from selling you out.”

“That’s not very nice, Rem,” Misa pouted. “But anyway, I’ll see you later, Kimiko! Bye!”

I nodded, and made my way back to To-Oh, to see Light waiting outside the Law Enforcement classroom, holding my bag and arching an eyebrow. “Where were you?”

“ _I_ was outside, preventing sexual assault from taking place.” I said, keeping my face flat. “And where were you?”

Light looked sheepish. “I was waiting for you at the cafeteria, but you didn’t show, so I brought you lunch.” He held up a box that smelled like _shiitake_ fried rice.

“Thanks, Light,” I said, grinning as I took the box, broke apart a pair of wooden chopsticks, and dug in, quickly, of course, since class would start in ten minutes.

“Kimi?” Light asked.

I looked from my food, glancing at him questioningly as I chewed.

“Do you know the person you saved?”

I stopped chewing. Since when had I become so easy for Light to see through? “Well, not personally,” I lied. “She was Misa Amane—a model and actress. I managed to confuse the offenders, and then they were killed by Kira.”

“I see,” Light said, lying perfectly.

“The weirdest thing was that those guys were the same ones that were with that Shibuimaru fellow all those months ago. Weird, huh?” That last part was genuine curiosity on my part.

“I know I should probably stop fussing over this, since we’re both training to join the NPA,” Light said, his voice soft and gentle, as if each word was caressing me, “but would it be a vain hope for you to abstain from putting yourself into volatile situations before we manage to get our badges as official police officers?”

“You would have done the same thing, Light,” I said, matching his soft tone. “You and I both know you would.”

“But I’m not going to be taken advantage of like that.” Light insisted.

I didn’t bother restraining the laugh that sprouted from my mouth. “ _You_ , unlikely to be taken advantage of? _Ha, ha,_ that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day! Do you have _any_ idea how many girls are lined up, waiting for the chance to pull you into a closet and do gods-know-what to you?”

Light visibly turned a bright shade of red. “At least I can defend myself.”

“And I can’t?”

“Kimi, it hurts for me to see you put yourself in compromising situations. Please.” He sighed, then said, “And do _you_ have any idea how many boys are after _you_?”

I blushed. “Yeah . . . I’m sorry. Let me just finish my food, th—” The bell rang.

“ _No . . ._ ” I moaned, drawing out the “o”. “I’m still hungry!” I was just about to put the box down when my phone beeped with a message. After looking at it, I cursed. “Light?”

“Yes?”

“Tell Murata-sensei that I wasn’t feeling well and had to go home. Ryuzaki wants me at headquarters immediately.” I said, biting my lip.

Light looked as if he was about to disagree, but made no protest.

After smiling gratefully at him (how much did I do that nowadays?) and hoping he wouldn’t try to strangle L the next time he saw him, I managed to get to the new headquarters—at the Imperial Hotel—without incident.

And L was the only one there.

“Do make yourself comfortable, Yamada-chan. The others will be here soon.” L showed no sign of suspicion whatsoever.

“Yeah,” I said cautiously, but remained standing where I was. Thankfully, the task force came in at that moment.

“So . . . what was on them, Ryuzaki?” Uncle Soichiro asked.

L turned around—only bending his upper half, making his posture reminiscent of an eel. “Very interesting videos.” He paused, turning to stare at the tapes. I was tempted to tell him that _no, Ryuzaki, you can’t peel apart the souls of cassette tapes with your creepy staring because they don’t_ have _souls_ , but I refrained myself. “The instructions were to broadcast video three if the police said ‘yes’ to working with Kira, and if the answer was ‘no’, to show four.”

“And they say . . . ?” I prompted.

L didn’t bother turning as he responded. “Video three contains the details for cooperation. Basically, they were: to show more criminals on the news, and particularly to report crimes in which people were injured, or cruelty was shown towards the weak, even if those crimes were minor—and Kira will be the one to decide who should be punished. And, as proof that the police are sincere about working with him, to have top NPA officials and L appear on TV to make the announcement.”

“It’s completely out of character for Kira . . . he’s usually kept in the shadows before. Besides, Kira seems far too proud to ask you to appear on TV.” I sent a cutting glance at L.

“That’s quite true,” L agreed. So, he wasn’t going to tell me that he he suspected it was a second Kira—he wanted to see how much information I was willing to reveal, and how far I would go to save Light. “But the meaning behind his demands are simple: to make the top brass and me show our faces, so that if the police start acting suspiciously, he can kill us off.”

“Again, there’s the issue of ‘only a face’ that sets it apart. All of us had originally determined that Kira needed a name to kill as well, right?” I said, furrowing my brows.

“Then again, it’s possible that Kira’s powers have grown,” Aizawa pointed out. “It _has_ been a while since he first acquired them.”

“That is true, Aizawa-san,” L said, “but Kira would never even think of revealing that information. Anyhow, I’m almost sure that Kira knew very well that the police would never say ‘yes’ when he decided to take this step. Anybody could guess that the police would respond exactly as they did yesterday.”

“So what about the ‘no’ video, number four?” Uncle Soichiro asked.

“Basically, it’s the same thing, just expressed in a different manner. It’ll be much faster to have you watch it than to explain it in words. Yagami-san, obviously the police are going to say ‘no,’ so please go ahead and give Sakura TV permission to air this video.”

Not knowing why I was there was starting to frustrate me. “Ryuzaki, is there any reason I’m here other than to to watch this? I’m sure you’ve long-since figured that I’d be watching it when it aired on Sakura TV anyway.”

“Yes, there were some possibilities I wanted to discuss with you, and, based on your comments just now, I wish to do so even more.” he said, unruffled. “But I would have you first watch the video.”

“Again, I’m not getting a choice here, am I?” I sighed.

“No, you aren’t.” I realised then that we’d both switched back to English. Uncle Soichiro and Matsuda were the only ones who understood everything we were saying, from the looks on their faces. Aizawa seemed a bit confused here and there and Mogi was, as was expected, unreadable.

So _that_ was why Matsuda was sent to the ICPO meeting.

“I didn’t know you knew English, Matsuda,” I said appraisingly and smiled stiffly as I made my way to the couch to watch the video.

Misa’s filtered voice rang loudly through the speakers. “ _It is highly unfortunate that the police have said ‘no’ to my offer. However, I expect news reports to continue featuring criminals as before, or else I will have to pass judgment on people in the police and the media._ ”

“How appalling,” I muttered softly. It was almost hard to believe that someone as bubbly and cheerful as Misa could threaten to do this.

The others nodded in agreement.

“ _But . . . since the police have decided to oppose me, that alone will not do. As a penalty, I will take the life of the Director-General of the NPA, who has formed a task force to find and capture me, or of the alleged mastermind leading this task force, known only as L._ ”

Aizawa inhaled sharply, and Matsuda let out a little gasp of shock.

“ _The Director-General, or L—which one will it be? You have four days to decide who will be sacrificed for the loss of a peaceful and just world._ ”

“The way that this is being phrased is ghastly,” I said, trying to win manipulation points. Murmurs of agreement rose up from behind me.

“Indeed,” L said.

“ _I know the face of the DIrector-General and can easily take his life. But if L is chosen instead . . . He is to appear on Sakura TV in four days, on the six PM news, and speak for a ten-minute period. I will be the judge of whether the person shown is L. If I determine the person is not L, I will take the lives of several police chiefs worldwide as compensation. Lying to me will cost you dearly._ ” A slight pause. “ _I will say this yet again: I do not want to take the lives of innocent people._ ”

Aizawa made a sound like a restrained growl.

“ _You have four days. Think it over, and think it well._ ”

“Yagami-san, please send this to Sakura TV.” L said. Uncle Soichiro nodded, took the tape, and left. “Aizawa-san and Mogi-san, you are free to go.”

Matsuda cleared his throat. “And what about me, Ryuzaki?”

“You too, Matsuda-san.”

Matsuda nodded and left, just as Watari came back into the hotel room.

 _Thank the gods Watari’s here_ , I thought as L left the room for whatever reason.

“Miss Yamada,” he said in English as he placed a strawberry shortcake on the table in front of L’s seat, “would you like something to eat?”

I looked at my watch. All my classes had finished and it was almost four, and since I’d never finished my rice, I was starving. “Yes, please, Watari,” I said, “as long as I’m not imposing.”

Watari’s eyes crinkled pleasantly as he smiled. “No, not at all. Despite Ryuzaki’s unconventional eating habits, my own diet is vastly different.” He placed a plateful of fish ’n’ chips in front of me, making me start salivating.

“Thank you so much,” I said, then ate. The fish was tender and juicy, the batter crisp, and the fries were warm, and not oily in the slightest. It was heaven on a plate. “This is really good,” I said after swallowing. “Uh, Watari?”

“Yes, Miss Yamada?”

“Kimiko,” I corrected automatically, then continued, “why does Ryuzaki only eat sweets?”

Watari’s eyes grew distant and foggy, making them hard to read. “L has had a rough past. I think that the sweetness of the foods he eats helps him wash away the bitterness. He often used to say that he wouldn’t sleep because of those nightmares that plagued his past. He says that sitting like that helps him think, but I believe that it’s because he’s grown used to sitting like that—protecting his vital organs.”

My throat felt dry. “Oh,” was all I could say. I immediately felt guilty about being so judgmental about him before, now that I’d heard this. I made a mental note to be nicer to L from now on.

“I’ve noticed that L is particularly blunt to his suspects. I do apologise for his rude behaviour. He isn’t the best with people,” Watari sighed.

I nodded, unsure what to say. Thankfully, L saved me from potential mortification by entering the room. (Never thought I’d say that. How depressing.)

“Watari,” L said in English, “are there any more strawberries?”

Watari chuckled. “Right away, Ryuzaki.”

“Thank you.”

“Uh . . . Ryuzaki?” I started, gathering my confidence and relinquishing some pride to apologise.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry if I came off as insensitive earlier. I guess I was rather harsh with my words. Watari told me that you weren’t trying to be cold, so I just wanted to clear that up.” I said.

“It hadn’t come to my attention that I was being rude. I apologise as well.”

I blinked. Did he mean it, or was he saying just for the sake of it? Either way, dwelling on it was pointless. “Ryuzaki, you requested I stay back for a reason, right?”

“Yes. You were making comments about how it was ‘unlike Kira’ to send in those tapes. Could you elaborate on that?” Tactful, using my own words rather than voicing his.

“I mean that I don’t think it was Kira who did this.” I said. It wasn’t like lying would help me become any less suspicious.

“But those men in the broadcast clearly died of heart attacks that were scheduled, and for opposing Kira, no less.”

“But Kira’s only killed innocent people he’s seen as threats, like Lind L. Tailor, whom he presumed was you, and those FBI agents.” _And thankfully not Naomi._ “It goes against any sort of motive for justice to kill television announcers that don’t like him.

“Furthermore, Kira’s always chosen to stay in the shadows. It’s completely out of character for him to suddenly show himself and risk getting physical evidence on him.” I leaned back into the sofa, crossing my arms.

“But Kira can control his victims before they die. It’s highly possible that Kira had someone send the tapes for him.” L said, his eyes wide—but still soulless—and his thumb nail in his mouth, completely ignoring the bowl of strawberries Watari was placing in front of him.

 _Oh, L, I know exactly what you’re doing: trying to get me to say something that only Kira—or someone who knew everything about Kira—would know._ “You never told me that Kira could control his victims, Ryuzaki.”

“Right.” L twisted awkwardly so he could reach his pocket, and I looked away politely. No matter what any L fan would want, I _was not_ going to provide any information on what his rear looked like, thank you very much.

“These pictures,” he started, “are all letters that were left by criminals promptly before they were taken into cardiac arrest. I believe that Kira controlled his victims, making them write these. Aligned, it says—”

“L, do you know, Gods of Death love apples?” Initially, I was surprised that he wasn’t going to make me figure it out himself, but since he’d already mentioned that Kira could control his victims, there wasn’t a point in getting me to try figure it all out. “Three notes that form a coherent sentence. I suppose it makes sense, but . . . gods of death?”

“That was quite perplexing to me as well,” L stated.

“I mean, it looks like he’s mocking you,” I said, allowing my gaze to slide lazily over the photos. “But if reapers existed, and were on Kira’s side, wouldn’t Kira have convinced them to kill his oppressors by now?”

“Not quite. There’s no guarantee that these death gods are on Kira’s side in the first place. For all I know, they could only be using Kira to get a laugh in their own twisted way.” L said, and his eyes suddenly unfocused and his voice dropped. I wondered whether or not he actually felt bad about that.

“That certainly is a possibility,” I mused, “a reaper using a human to alleviate its boredom. But then again, there’s also the possibility that Kira is referring to himself when he talks about a god of death. Ancient philosophers have always considered some form of justice to be taken in the afterlife, and so many ancient deities with death are also associated with righteous judgement.

“For example, in Greek mythology, Hades instigated a justice system in the Underworld after the defeat of the Titans so dead mortal souls would be tried and would serve their punishment or live out their blessing without any bias.

“Osiris would weigh a human’s heart and compare it to the weight of the Feather of Ma’at, and decide whether or not the soul was damned. If it was, then the heart would be thrown to Ammit, who would devour it.”

Were any true? I didn’t know. I remember reading that in the Greek afterlife, people could wipe their memories clean in the River Lethe if they consumed its water. But was there anything about memories only of the Underworld or afterlife being erased? I wasn’t sure, but it was definitely something I didn’t want to find out.

“Hmm,” said L.

Talk about a serious problem with specificity.

“Could you elaborate, Ryuzaki?” I prompted.

“That seems to be quite an interesting notion,”  L said, “I do agree with that. It’s what made me suspect that Kira believed himself to be a god in the first place.” L plucked a strawberry from the bowl, dipped it in the whipped cream on the cake, and ate it. “But it could also be a nod to the way Kira attained his powers.”

“That’s true. If Kira did get his powers from a reaper, then it makes it possible for another reaper to come into the picture. That means that there is a large possibility of it being a Second Kira.” I agreed. I may have already known that, but in all honesty, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. “This Second Kira made no way to acknowledge the forces trying to capture him, which is completely unlike Kira. The original went out of his way to _mock_ you using those notes. Also, since this Kira was able to kill Mr. Ukita with only his face, it would appear that this one’s powers are different—in fact, greater—than the original’s.”

“Quite impressive,” L said. “But yes, that is exactly the conclusion I came up with. You’ve been able to draw out the information that I was hoping to go through over a few days almost immediately.”

“I’m dedicated to stopping Kira. There’s really nothing else I need to say.”

“Well, because everything I have wished to cover has been done, there will be no need for you to come here until April twenty-third.”

The forensics, I remembered suddenly. “Ryuzaki,” I said, “I have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“The forensics lab—have they picked up on anything that may help?”

“We haven’t received any information from them as of yet. I presume they’re still studying the tapes.” L said, stirring the coffee that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

“I see,” I said, then took my leave, passing Watari on the way out. “Also, thank you for the food, Watari,” I said, nodding to him.

As I made my way back, I mulled over the possibilities of the more distant future. I couldn’t make any moves or suggest anything on this side, since L would think I was trying to play a major role, so if things panned out, then Misa would see Light’s name within a month. Assuming she would force a relationship with Light, she would be seen by Mogi and investigated as the Second Kira. After she was confirmed to be via the physical evidence, she would be placed into confinement, and Light would volunteer to do so too.

Of course, it would hurt me to see Light in solitary confinement for so long, but once Light gave up the notebooks, L’s fate was sealed.

I didn’t care about L on an emotional level—nothing other than pity for his past—but the world did _need_ L. L was a detective trusted by all nations of the world, and had solved thousands of crimes too hard for the police to do so.

On the other hand, _I_ needed Light. And if it came down to it, there was no way I would choose L over Light. As a human being, I was selfish, flawed, and I did pander to my emotions.

So if I were to try to stop L from dying, without getting Light in the middle . . .

I didn’t know.

I sat down in the train, resting my hands on my knees. What could I do? I had no clue whatsoever.

But I couldn’t give up. I _wouldn’t_ give up.

It was almost dinnertime when I reached home, choosing to eat dinner at Light’s place again. Dinner was quiet, with a few comments passed from Sayu about some pop star’s new release, a few between Light, Uncle Soichiro and I about Kira, and a few from Aunt Sachiko about _please can you stop discussing that killer and eat your food because you three have to go to school tomorrow for God’s sake and Soichiro how many nights have you gotten an adequate amount of sleep recently you’ve just been hospitalised so go get some rest_.

“Wait, Dad was hospitalised?” Sayu asked.

Light, Uncle Soichiro and I all stared blankly at Aunt Sachiko. “This is why we all need to go to sleep. If the four of you don’t finish eating within the next three minutes, you’re going to have to pack the leftovers, wash the dishes, and make breakfast tomorrow by yourselves.”

Every grain of rice was finished within the minute.

I quickly said bye to them, then walked back to my house, dropped my bag on the floor, and sat at my desk.

I buried my head in my hands, hunching over my desk. “Damn it,” I whispered, feeling tears snake down my arms as the heels of my palms dug into my eyes.

“I _know_ it’s wrong, but . . . I’m going to choose Light over L if it comes to it.” I murmured. “Stupid morality,” I gritted. “Stupid Death Note, stupid L, stupid Kira, stupid multiverse!”

I slammed my fists against the desk.

“No, getting worked up is pointless. I need to figure out . . . _something_.” I opened my drawer, and pulled _Death Note 13_ out from the back of the cupboard, where I’d temporarily stashed it so Light wouldn’t see it. Flipping to page 90, I looked at the timeline.

> _04 . 25 . 2004: Video #2 from the Second Kira arrives._
> 
> _04 . 25 . 2004: Hearing the word “Shinigami,” L falls out of his chair._

Two days after the next time I’d see L, Misa would send her next video, and I had no way to find her before then. Meaning that L would find out about Shinigami.

Of course, the second detail—him falling out of his chair—was completely unnecessary to have added, but it begged the question: Did L know about Shinigami before to have elicited such a reaction?

No, surely not. He seemed to immediately reject the idea during canon. Unless that was because he hated the idea of being manipulated all for some cosmic joke.

Which it was.

But that was more emotion than L would ever portray as was to be seen in the entire plot. Maybe he’d come across the term before, maybe before Light sent those messages using those death row inmates. Maybe L had encountered Death Notes before, but eventually lost his own memories of the incident.

How was I supposed to know?

Either way, I couldn’t approach Misa within five days, so the next video—and thus, another three or so weeks of sitting around, when the diary with the date for the Aoyama “meeting” would arrive. If I couldn’t get into contact with Misa before she released the diary, the simplest thing would be to distract her at Aoyama. So I’d need to keep a lookout for her. If she didn’t see Light’s name and lifespan (or lack thereof) she wouldn’t know he was Kira, and wouldn’t be able to make any further moves.

But then she’d surely go to the Note Blue—and invite me with her. Having Light find out I knew everything would only make things go downhill, since Light would undoubtedly try to coerce me into giving him information. And I had no doubt he’d succeed, whether or not I realised it. No, the Note Blue meeting would be far too unpredictable, but both Misa and Light would want to meet there because of the message in the diary.

I could keep Light away from the Note Blue, of course, or just make sure Misa didn’t see him, but doing so would involve a lot of on-the-spot lying and decisions.

Unfortunately, it was the only way I could prevent Misa going into confinement, thus causing Light to go into confinement, and eventually L dying.

It wasn’t much, but it was a plan. I set my jaw. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight, no matter what.

This fight was one of two battles of wits—Light against L, me against all other odds. I had a role to fill, and fill it I would.

_I am Kimiko Yamada, and I will not be afraid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an announcement! Whoever gets the intended reference (and writes it in a review on FanFiction.net) will have a cameo (as their username) in the next chapter!


	18. Great, the Detective Admires the Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Internet holds many secrets, and people online seem to be more aware than ever. That aside, L's suspicion seems to just keep growing, and now even Misa seems to be changing her agenda . . .

I hummed as I scrolled through a Kira forum online. Of course, it was always good to keep an eye out on the public eye, just in case.

 

 

> **_ichi_kai_kyuu_kai [21/04/04 11:04 AM]:_** _  
> __What do you guys think of Kira?_
> 
> _ > (Showing replies . . .) _
> 
> **_mixedemotions [21/04/04 11:25 AM]_** _  
> __kira’s a hero, he’s getting rid of the bad guys_
> 
> **_maryatemycake [21/04/04 11:28 AM]_ ** _  
> _ _@mixedemotions_ _wtf no. he’s a murderer._
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/17 11:30 AM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@maryatemycake_ _@mixedemotions_ _Could you elaborate?_
> 
> **_mixedemotions [21/04/04 11:30 AM]_ ** _  
> _ _@icy_sapphire13_ _kira’s saved so many lives by getting red of criminals around the world. he’s obviously trying to help us in need._
> 
> **_mixedemotions [21/04/04 11:30 AM]_ ** _  
> _ _@mixedemotions_ _*rid of_
> 
> **_maryatemycake [21/04/04 11:31 AM]_ ** _  
> _ _@icy_sapphire13_ _@mixedemotions_ _Kira’s trying to rule us with fear. that’ll nvr work out._
> 
> **_indigo1008 [21/04/04 6:33 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@icy_sapphire13_ _I think Kira’s doing the wrong thing. He’s never gonna be able to stop L_
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 6:33 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@indigo1008_ _What makes you so sure?_
> 
> **_indigo1008 [21/04/04 6:33 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@icy_sapphire13_ _L is the world’s greatest detective. I dont think there’s a case he hasn’t been able to solve_
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 6:34 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@indigo1008_ _There’s a chance. Kira’s stepping up his game._
> 
> **_tiramisucheesecake282 [21/04/04 7:01 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@icy_sapphire13_ _Whose side are you on here, Sapphire?_
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 7:02 PM]_ ** _  
> _ _@tiramisucheesecake282_ _I’m playing Devil’s Advocate, Coffee. You should know that by now._
> 
> **_Foghorn2810 [21/04/04 7:21 PM]_** ** _  
> _**_@icy_sapphire13_ _@tiramisucheesecake282_ _I agree with_ _@indigo1008_ _. L’s a pretty detective, but kira’s more powerful. it all depends on who’s smarter in the end_
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 7:22 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@Foghorn2810_ _“L’s a pretty detective”? What?_
> 
> **_Foghorn2810 [21/04/04 7:22 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@icy_sapphire13_ _NO WAIT I MEANT L’S A PRETTY GOOD DETECTIVE!_
> 
> **_tiramisucheesecake282 [21/04/04 7:49 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@Foghorn2810_ _guess we’ll have to wait and see._ _@icy_sapphire13_ _The Sakura TV videos aren’t much of a step forward, though, if Kira’s out for justice._
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 7:49 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@tiramisucheesecake282_ _That’s certainly a point that needs to be looked into. And_ _@Foghorn2810_ _, it’s not just smarts in this battle. There are many more unreliable factors that could completely change the course of things._
> 
> **_my_colour_undiminished [21/04/04 7:51 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _Actually,_ _@tiramisucheesecake282_ _seems to be onto something. It’s completely unlike Kira to make a move like this. Also,_ _@misty_dawn_ _, I think you’ll appreciate this thread._
> 
> **_maryatemycake [21/04/04 7:51 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@my_colour_undiminished_ _what does tha t mean_
> 
> **_misty_dawn [21/04/04 7:52 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@maryatemycake_ _It means that she doesn’t think this is Kira._
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 7:52 PM]_ ** _  
> _ _@my_colour_undiminished_ _@misty_dawn_ _What are you insinuating?_
> 
> **_my_colour_undiminished [21/04/04 7:52 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@icy_sapphire13_ _I’m insinuating that I think it’s a copycat killer. A fake; an imposter._
> 
> **_tiramisucheesecake282 [21/04/04 7:53 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@my_colour_undiminished_ _That’s quite a bold speculation. But why would another person attain Kira’s powers?_
> 
> **_my_colour_undiminished [21/04/04 7:53 PM] (edited)_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@tiramisucheesecake282_ _If Kira was somehow able to attain these powers in the first place, who’s to say that someone else hasn’t been able to do the same?_
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 7:53 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _That’s a very good possibility,_ _@my_colour_undiminished_ _. Anyhow,_ _@tiramisucheesecake282_ _and I have to go now. This was quite a stimulating topic._
> 
> **_friendlycheetah13 [21/04/04 7:53 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@icy_sapphire13_ _do you know_ _@tiramisucheesecake282_ _in real life? that’s so sweet!_
> 
> **_icy_sapphire13 [21/04/04 7:53 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@friendlycheetah13_ _, yep. He’s my best friend. :) Right, Coffee?_
> 
> **_tiramisucheesecake282 [21/04/04 7:54 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@friendlycheetah13_ _Yes. She and I have been close since we were infants._
> 
> **_friendlycheetah13 [21/04/04 7:54 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _those two are completely into the kira debate......they’re probably soulmates_
> 
> **_my_colour_undiminished [21/04/04 7:55 PM]_ ** **_  
> _ ** _@friendlycheetah13_ _, you’re getting off-topic…_

 

I laughed as I closed the thread. Of course, the people “misty_dawn” and “my_colour_undiminished” were eerily close to the truth, but it wasn’t like there was any chance of them knowing _who_ Kira or “his copycat” was.

I glanced at the usernames of everyone in the thread. The creator, “ichi_kai_kyuu_kai” had a Japanese username―it translated to “one time nine times”. I wasn’t sure whether it was random or not.

Most of them, like “indigo1008”, “friendlycheetah13”, “misty_dawn”, “Foghorn2810”, and “mixedemotions” seemed like ordinary usernames. The username “maryatemycake” seemed rather ridiculous, but it wasn’t likely to be anyone important, nor did I care whose cake Mary ate, so I left it alone.

Of course, Light was “tiramisucheesecake282”, and I was “icy_sapphire13”, so that left “my_colour_undimished”. It seemed like a quote, or at least part of it.

A quick search on Google yielded results.

_“No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be good. Like the gold or emerald or purple repeating to itself, ‘No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be emerald, my colour undiminished.’” ―Marcus Aurelius_

It was just a quote from one of Rome’s emperors. Nothing much to make of it.

I leaned back in my desk char and sighed heavily. There was still another two days before I had to go back to headquarters and discuss the entire Second Kira ordeal with L and the Task Force, and I had nothing to do but the usual stuff from To-Oh and chat with Light. Ordinarily, I’d have given an arm and a leg for a break like this, but . . .

Frankly, the anticipation was getting to me. It didn’t seem right, and I felt that I should have spent more time planning, but I was just plain _bored_. And that’s never a good thing in this universe.

I glanced at _Death Note 13_ beside me. All that was left to do was wait.

So I waited.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Perfect timing, Yamada-chan,” L said, unruffled, as I entered the Teito hotel.

“You _did_ call my cellphone and tell me to ‘come immediately’,” I pointed out. “I’d ask how you got my number if it wasn’t already so obvious.” Because he was L, and for him, this task was nothing more than a snap of his fingers.

I suddenly felt a hand lay on my shoulder, and tensed, but immediately relaxed when I saw it was Uncle Soichiro.

“How did it go, Chief?” Matsuda asked hesitantly. Almost as if he was scared of the answer. It was probably about the response to the Kira videos, I figured. Of course, I’d never confess to teaming up with Light to find out what the police was planning to do by hacking into the police database . . . again. As I’d said to Uncle Soichiro that day, they _really_ needed an upgrade.

I was right. “Just as I thought, Ryuzaki . . .” he said as he took a seat in the empty armchair. I still remained standing behind it. Uncle Soichiro sighed heavily. “World leaders have talked it out over themselves, and they’re demanding that L . . . not a stand-in, but the real _L_ . . . appear on TV . . .”

“Disappointing. Did they even bother to try and find an alternative?” I asked.

“That’s just it. After doing almost nothing to help the investigation, they don’t even try to come up with some alternative. Kira says jump, they ask how high . . .”

“Their decision is both right and reasonable.” L said firmly. We all looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “It’s simply unacceptable for the police to work with Kira. And if it’s between me and the NPA Director-General, of course it should be me; I’m the one who challenged Kira and said I’d capture him. It’s the right decision.”

There was an awkward lack of objection.

Until, of course, Matsuda intervened. “But . . . that means you’ll be . . .”

No one bothered to fill in the silence.

Instead, L said, “What worries me more is that when I appear on TV―and I intend to―if Kira knows nothing about me, and it’s really me out there, how do I get him to believe I’m L?”

The final sentence was left unsaid. If Light was Kira, and was behind this, then L would’ve been killed without hesitation. But, of course, L didn’t know about the Shinigami Eyes, so if Misa was to kill him on the spot, without any information being given (although I doubted she was _that_ dumb), the evidence would immediately point to Light.

Cue the big red flags.

“You’ve got a point . . .” Matsuda said after a moment.

“Hey . . .” Aizawa interjected, but clearly didn’t have a better comeback.

Having had enough wasting time, I leaned forward, elbows resting on the head of Uncle Soichiro’s chair (I’d almost forgotten I was still standing up) and steepled my fingers. “You all get what Ryuzaki’s implying, right?”

Uncle Soichiro sighed gravely. Aizawa and Matsuda looked at me inquisitively. L sipped his coffee. Or tea. I didn’t particularly care what it was.

“Ryuzaki is implying that if Light is Kira, then he’d kill him on the spot, without waiting for confirmation, since Light already knows that Ryuzaki is L. Isn’t that what you’re thinking?”

“It is indeed. You catch on quickly. Well, I’ll do what I can to make him believe me, but if I fail . . . police chiefs around the world get killed instead. That’s what bothers me.” Liar. I could _smell_ that lie coming. “It’ll be quite hard, proving I’m L . . . I really don’t know how Kira intends to figure it out.” L stabbed his cake with his fork, somehow delicately and proudly at the same time.

The action was so much like Light that I had to look away.

“Well, we have another three days. I’ll try to come up with a way to prevent the whole thing. I don’t want to die, either.”

“He’s finally going to tell them,” I whispered under my breath, too soft for anyone to hear.

“It would be bad enough to be killed by Kira, but to be killed at the hands of an opportunist pretending to be Kira would really grate.”

“ _What?_ ” echoed around the room. “Wh . . . what do you mean by that, Ryuzaki?” Uncle Soichiro asked, sitting erect.

“While watching the Kira videos, it occurred to me that this Kira is highly likely to be a fake. Or, more precisely, a second Kira.” L cast a glance around the room, looking everyone in the eye―except me. So I wasn’t to reveal that I had “deduced” the same.

Ridiculous.

“ _A second Kira?_ ” all other occupants in the room echoed, their voices still raised. I wondered if I’d get NIHL anytime soon.

“Yes. I considered the possibility of his being an accomplice, but find that to be unlikely. Watching this first video is what made me think of it.” L held out the cassette tape with his index finger and thumb. “This video wasn’t aired, but was made to convince Sakura TV that the sender was actually Kira. It was made to be viewed by Sakura staff only. The envelope is postmarked ‘April 13’. It arrived at Sakura TV the next day, and three days after that, the murders announced in the video took place.”

Matsuda let out a quizzical sound. “But if the murders announced three days in advance actually happened, I’d say that’s pretty convincing . . .”

“I was not convinced that the sender was Kira.” L looked Matsuda directly in the eye. The latter seemed to shrink under his gaze.

“But why not?” Aizawa asked. “I watched this video too, and I never thought . . .”

“Didn’t you get the feelings that the victims were completely different from Kira’s past victims?” L asked.

“Ryuzaki, now you’re putting words in their mouths,” I said casually.

“‘Their’ . . .?” Aizawa muttered softly. So he noticed. _Not bad, Aizawa._

“I am doing no such thing,” L objected. “I am simply saying it as I see it. Either way, it’s not that their crimes were much too minor. TV celebrities caught with drugs is only something women’s magazines make a fuss about. I actually went and checked, and as of April thirteenth, the only coverage it had received was on daytime tabloid shows. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

“Again, Ryuzaki,” I said, “that seems like a very leading question, but this means that our suspect could very well be a young woman.”

I could’ve sworn Ryuzaki’s eyes sparkled if not for the fact that he portrayed no other reaction.

“That director, Demegawa, and others at Sakura use tabloid show stories as fodder all the time, so it probably didn’t seem suspicious to them, but I’d say these victims are clearly unlike the others.”

Uncle Soichiro made a noise of assent.

“The real Kira has no need to prove himself with such small fry, and wouldn’t even think of it. It would be much more his style to hold off killing one or two of his usual hardcore”―I almost laughed at the term coming from _L’s_ mouth―“victims until the appointed time, and kill them then. That would be convincing.

“But if a second Kira wanted to make people think he was the real Kira, he couldn’t use a criminal that the real Kira might actually eliminate before the Sakura people saw his video.If he gave notice of a serious criminal’s death, the real Kira might get him first. And if the time and date he announced were off, Sakura TV wouldn’t believe him.”

Matsuda raised his hand to his chin in a thinking pose that was almost comical. “But . . . maybe he deliberately used someone that TV people would know . . . no, I guess that’s pushing it . . .”

“Yeah, but I don’t think we can definitely say it’s a second Kira just from that . . .” Aizawa muttered.

Uncle Soichiro hummed. “Ryuzaki,” he said, “what’s the probability that this is a second Kira?”

“This time,” L said, “I’d say it’s over seventy percent.”

The others gasped, but my mind flashed back to _Death Note 13_. Whenever L threw out a percentage, he was over ninety percent sure. So what was he actually thinking?

“Well, ordinarily, it would be over seventy percent,” L continued. My gaze immediately snapped to him as I felt my eyes narrow in automatic suspicion. “However, since Yamada-chan―”

“Kimiko,” my brain supplied automatically.

“―brought up the same possibility without any prompting of my own, I believe it should be at least eighty percent. The both of us have come up with this theory with no interference from the other, so I can say it’s all the more reliable. Especially since I suspect that if she were in league with Kira, she would try and deny this possibility, if only to see me dead.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets to restrain myself from slapping him. After trying _so hard_ to see how I could keep him alive without affecting Light, he _still_ suspected me! Not that he knew, but at this rate, he’d end up dying with or without my interference.

I didn’t bother concealing my glare. “Ryuzaki,” I said, my voice sharp, “I don’t want to see you―or any of the investigation team, for that matter―dead. I’m against what Kira is doing, and I can well assure you that Light isn’t Kira. I want this case solved, and with the loss of minimal lives. The FBI agents, Mister Ukita . . . they all gave their lives for this case, and that’s a sacrifice for the world. It would be repugnant to turn my back on all that. So, please, continue with what you were about to say before accusing me.” The lies slipped so easily from my tongue. I wondered how horrible a person that made me.

I dared to look around the room. L looked unswayed, Aizawa looked impressed, and Matsuda’s mouth dropped open slightly. It almost looked like awe. Uncle Soichiro, though . . . his face was beaming with pride. A stone dropped into my stomach.

“Do . . . do you really mean that?” Matsuda asked, sheepish.

The lie was bitter on my tongue. It took all my effort not to throw up, disgusted with myself. _No. No, I’m a filthy liar, and I’d rather see the world burn down than hurt Light or Sayu._

I smiled at him. “Every last word.”

“Well, I don’t like this person’s style . . . it’s not like Kira at all,” L said after everyone’s shock had worn off.

“Not like Kira . . . ?” Aizawa echoed.

“The way those videos were made,” L clarified. “It’s just too sloppy. And I’m not only talking about the bad lettering. It’s the sound, too. He’s playing back sound recorded on other equipment and taking it in through the video camera’s mic. At places I assume outside noise got in, he rewound the tape and did it over. Ordinarily, you would transfer the sound by connecting the tape to the video camera with a cable. This is just so amateurish.

“And then, making a TV network broadcast and using the police as bargaining chips . . . It was obvious that doing things like that would arouse public hostility against him. Plus, those TV announcers who were killed were innocent victims.” L set down his cup. “If I were Kira, I’d be pretty furious,” he said plainly.

“I don’t think any of us are inclined to disagree,” I muttered.

“Kimiko,” Uncle Soichiro admonished. I shut up.

“So far, aside from people who were after him, Kira avoided attacking innocent people. His method was to make his views gradually penetrate society. Kira’s aim is not a dictatorship based on fear.” L’s voice―if I was not mistaken―yielded something akin to admiration.

I wouldn’t even be surprised if it was genuine―I doubted anyone had ever put L under this much pressure. In fact, now that there was a second Kira involved, L looked more . . . lively? No, the right word was excited. As far as excitement went for L, anyway.

“So . . . maybe these fingerprints are actually . . .” Aizawa trailed off. _Fingerprints?_ I raised my eyebrows in anticipation.

Uncle Soichiro echoed my thoughts out loud.

“The lab found matching fingerprints on the postage stamps and videos that didn’t belong to Sakura staff,” Aizawa clarified.

“We thought there was no way Kira left these prints,” Matsuda said.

“So we thought he had someone else handle the stuff,” Aizawa completed. “Maybe, though . . .”

“Hmm,” L said.

 _Care to elaborate?_ I thought sarcastically.

As if in retort to my thoughts, L continued, “I’d say it’s possible that these prints are the Second Kira’s.”

“But we don’t exactly know how far this Kira’s powers go. He could have controlled someone to do it for him, like the original Kira,” I put in, just for the heck of it.

“That is a point worth some merit,” L said blandly, “but it’s unlikely that the Second Kira even considered that option. And if we’re underestimating the ability of this Kira, then I don’t think he would trust anyone else to carry out  task such as this for him.”

“That’s true,” Uncle Soichiro affirmed, and Aizawa and Matsuda nodded in agreement.

“Well, either way, it would be smarter not to leave fingerprints at all, but if there is a Second Kira out there, he’s far less intelligent and methodical than the real Kira. It could be that he didn’t think about the videos and packaging being seized by the police.” L paused to pick up a sample and stare at the fingerprints.

Matsuda leaned forward in his seat, almost on the verge of falling out.

“Well, even if we restricted our search to Japan, it would be impossible to take fingerprints from everyone in the country, so it would be difficult to pinpoint the sender from this. We have to catch him first, and then compare the prints.” L paused. “Interesting though . . . how little these fingerprints are . . .”

“Little?” Aizawa repeated.

“A child’s, or a small woman’s . . .” L murmured.

Uncle Soichiro shuffled in his seat in front of me. “That tallies with what my son said to you at the hospital, about Kira being an affluent child,” he said.

I felt the beginning tingles of pins and needles in my feet, itching to sit down, but I ignored it. It would look awkward, anyway. Instead, I opted to move away from behind the chair I’d been standing behind for the past forty minutes, and walked around to the table. “No,” I said, “we can look at it this way. Ryuzaki, you suggested a small woman, right?”

L made no noise of dissent.

“And earlier, you said that the kind of victims this copycat went after were only mentioned in tabloid shows and things in women’s magazines. It’s likely―no, it seems almost obvious―that the sender’s probably a young woman. Anyone who’s seem interested in these kinds of things, ranging from teenage years to early twenties.”

“That’s quite a speculation,” Matsuda said.

I continued, “But it’s unlikely for someone in their young teens to be able to film this and give it to Sakura TV, no matter how much this Kira can control their victims. At the youngest, this person could be fifteen. This Kira would likely be older though, at least enough to live alone. Of course, here it’s just guesswork, but it seems fitting.”

“Impressive, Yamada-chan. I hadn’t thought of that myself.” L said, then turned to Uncle Soichiro. “Would it be all right if she were to work on the case? Even though I do suspect her of being an accomplice to Kira if indeed your son is Kira, this situation is still opportune.”

Uncle Soichiro looked as if he were about to object, but faced me. “I would, as your guardian, advise you against it, but this is your choice to make, Kimiko. If you want to do it, I won’t stop you. Besides,” he said with a sideways smile, “you’re already enjoying working on a case for real, aren’t you?”

I felt _so damn guilty_ I wanted to cry, but instead managed a smile of my own. “Yeah, it’s actually kinda fun. I see why you were so energised even after that Sakura TV incident. And . . . being able to work on a case with the world’s greatest detective isn’t a small achievement.” I glanced at L. Maybe it wasn’t a lie―after all, if this whole Death Note scenario would end the way I hoped I could try make it end, then it would be what I would do for the rest of my life.

_Listen to yourself. You’re acting like a Mary Sue OC. Things won’t be easy. People are still going to die. Heck, you got lucky when you saved Naomi since B was in the area._

“Then, it’s settled. You’ll officially be working on the case from now on.”

“Welcome to the Kira Task Force, Kimiko!” Matsuda said, smiling. Then he froze. “Uh, I can call you Kimiko, right?”

“Please do,” I said nonchalantly.

“As I was saying earlier,” L interrupted, looking directly at Uncle Soichiro, “whether it is Kira or a second Kira, perhaps your son is right. So, anyway, I thought about it further on the assumption that it’s a Second Kira, and even if the two Kiras don’t kill people in the same way, I believe that if we capture one, we’ll gain some clues at least as to how to capture the second one.”

He said _capture_ as if they were animals. His lack of sympathy was expected, but still unsettling.

“In my opinion,” he continued, either ignoring or not noticing my look of disdain, “Kira is the smarter of the two. And, if I were him, I would try to find out who the Second Kira is before the police do. I would gauge whether he sympathised with me, and if he did, I would make full use of him . . . and ultimately, before the police close in, I’d eliminate him.” Those words sounded exactly like the kind of thing Light would say. “That means we’re in a race with Kira to track down the Second Kira, which in turn means we have the opportunity to capture the real Kira.”

I noted the beads of sweat rolling down the officers’ (because I can’t be bothered to repeat their names; you know who they are) faces as they all stared at L.

“Yagami-san,” L said, and Uncle Soichiro straightened. “Would it be all right with you if I asked your son to work with us when he has the time?”

“Raise your hand if you didn’t see that coming,” I muttered under my breath.

Matsuda and Aizawa looked at each other while Uncle Soichiro’s eyes widened. His entire body language screamed “tense”. “Can I take that to mean he’s a hundred percent cleared of suspicion?”

Ha, I wish.

“No, I can’t say that,” L said, shuffling in his (still very awkward) sitting position. “But I do think he has very good reasoning abilities. In fact, I think your son would be a valuable asset to us in apprehending the Second Kira.”

Uncle Soichiro slumped back into his seat, disheartened. “Well,” he said, his voice leeched of liveliness, “like with Kimiko, if my son says yes, I have no reason to stop him.”

“We don’t mind either,” Matsuda added, his voice also lowered. He sounded so much older when he spoke quietly. So much . . . angstier. Matsuda being angsty―that was a new one. I filed it away for later, and I had no doubt that L did the same. After all, manipulation of the people around us was the only way to get anywhere with this game of wits, of boredom, of death. Nothing else would work.

“I’m pretty sure your son’s sense of justice will lead him to agree,” L said. “However . . . please keep it a secret from him that this Kira may be a fake. I want him to think he’s helping us hunt down the same Kira we’ve been pursuing all along.”

“. . . You do realise he’d never fall for that, right?” I said.

“Even so, wouldn’t that make it difficult for him to help us . . . ?” Matsuda asked.

“Yeah, why even ask for his help?” Aizawa muttered.

L almost seemed impatient. “No,” he said, his voice slightly terse, “we will only keep that part from him until he’s watched this first tape and given us his opinion. After that, we will include him and go after the Second Kira together.”

Aizawa and Matsuda just stared at L, confused.

L was starting to seem aggravated. “Light-kun’s reasoning ability is quite amazing. After seeing this tape, he may conclude that there’s a Second Kira.” _Like I said. Honestly, what am I even here for at this point? Plot convenience?_ “I’d like to see his reaction to seeing all of our evidence and this tape.”

Matsuda looked troubled. “But this ‘Second Kira’ theory is just because you think that the victims were the types of criminals Kira hasn’t touched, right . . . ?”

L exhaled in pointed exasperation. It made him seem more human. “It’s more than that . . . The Kira we have been investigating needed a person’s name and face to kill them. But that time at the TV station, cops who just happened to show up were killed. And this Kira seemed confident he could kill me as long as I showed my face on television. This means that the Second Kira can kill knowing only a person’s face. This is different from the Kira we have been chasing.”

“What if our information was wrong, or Kira’s abilities have changed?” Aizawa interjected.

“No,” I said, “if that were the case, there’s no way Kira wouldn’t have killed the major criminals whose names he doesn’t know. That’s why there are still a lot of severe criminals whom Kira hasn’t killed yet.”

“Mhmm,” L hummed in agreement as he poured tea or coffee into his teacup. “If, after getting updated on the investigation, Light-kun deduces that there could be a second Kira . . . the suspicion against Light-kun will be _mostly_ cleared.”

Uncle Soichiro’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, Ryuzaki?”

“Kira would want L dead no matter what―that’s obvious from the Lind L. Tailor incident. If I go before the cameras and die in three days, then the number of possible suspects would spread throughout the world. I don’t see how Kira would want to spoil such a perfect opportunity.”

“But either way, that might not change the fact that you’d die . . . why would merely suggesting a second Kira clear him of suspicion?” Aizawa asked.

 _That’s because if it’s a second Kira, it would be possible to stop her. Even so . . . Light would never allow this to be seen as the original Kira’s―his own―actions. He’d never allow an opinion of him, no matter whether people know that it’s still_ him _, to hit such a low level. It just hits his pride too hard._

L said, “If the sender if the videos is a second Kira, then there are ways to stop him,” L said, echoing my thoughts. “At the very least, the Second Kira agrees with Kira’s actions. I’m thinking he would follow orders from the real Kira. That means there’s a high chance we can stop him be creating a fake message from the real Kira. If Light-kun is Kira, then I don’t think he’ll mention the possibility of a second Kira until he’s confirmed my death.”

“No,” I said, and glanced apologetically at Uncle Soichiro. “Light wouldn’t do that. He’s a very proud person―and rightfully so. But because of that, even if he were Kira, he’d never allow anyone to think so lowly of him, or even a concept he created, whether or not they knew it was his. More than anything else, the lack of professionalism and forethought behind this Kira’s actions would disgust him.”

“Is that so?” L muttered under his breath. _That’s what you get for making me look like an idiot, L. Call it karma._ I couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk on my face.

“This is a little confusing to me . . .” Matsuda said, scratching his head comically.

Uncle Soichiro shook his head. “So you’re saying that your suspicion of my son will grow if he doesn’t mention that there’s a Second Kira?”

“Yeah, that’s a bit harsh,” Aizawa agreed.

“No, in that case, my suspicion will stay at five percent,” L said, and it looked like he was withholding the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll just reveal that we are investigating under the theory of a second Kira, and have him assist us.” He paused, then continued, “And, just in case, make sure you use your false names, even here.”

I cleared my throat.

L shrugged. “Kiyoko Yasutake. ‘Kiyo’ written with _sei_ , the kanji for ‘holy’, ‘ko’ is for child. ‘Yasu’ with the kanji for low, and ‘take’ with the kanji for war.”

I noted that he kept my initials―and the basic meaning of my first name―pretty much the same. The main difference with my first name was that instead of the kanji for noble, he used the kanji for holy. Of course, though, the irony of the surname wasn’t wasted on me. _Low_ and _war_ signified that, of course, he believed I had a part in his and Kira’s ‘battle of wits’, even though it would have been a relatively small part.

And the smug jerk just met my eyes, challenging me to object.

I met his gaze head on, accepting whatever challenge he was drawing me into. Nothing more than a cool calm was portrayed on my face. The trick here was to make sure that I gave away no more emotion than necessary―fight fire with fire.

“Ryuzaki,” Uncle Soichiro said, ending the staring competition, “is there anything else?”

“Yes,” L said, unruffled. “Watari will also not be coming here anymore. He will be on the outside, acting as another L who only I know. In hindsight, it would have been preferable if Yamada-chan didn’t know about Watari either, but, of course, one cannot predict the future.”

“Understood, Ryuzaki,” Watari said through the voice scrambler.

“We’re going that far . . . ?” Aizawa murmured.

“Of course. This _is_ the Kira Investigation, Aizawa,” Uncle Soichiro said, his tone exhausted.

“Well then, if Light-kun is okay with it, have him come here secretly as soon as he can.”

“All right,” Uncle Soichiro said, flipping open his phone. “Light, Ryuzaki is saying that he wants your help with the investigation . . .” Uncle Soichiro proceeded to tell him where we were and to come immediately without letting Aunt Sachiko or Sayu know.

He and Ryuk arrived half an hour later, which was surprisingly quick for the distance between home and the hotel.

“Thank you, Yagami-kun,” L said. I noted that in Light’s presence, L immediately switched to addressing him as “Yagami-kun” rather than “Light-kun”. _Weird . . ._

“Not at all, Ryuga,” Light said nonchalantly. “I want to catch Kira as much as you do.”

I noticed Uncle Soichiro puff out his chest slightly in pride.

“Please, call me Ryuzaki here,” L said, ignoring Light’s sentence almost entirely.

“I’m Matsui,” Matsuda said.

“I’m Aihara.” Aizawa.

“And I’m Asahi,” Uncle Soichiro said.

“I see,” Light said, as the edge of a smirk broke onto his face. “So should I be ‘Light Asahi’?”

“That would be fine, but I will call you ‘Light-kun’ here,” L said blandly.

“And I’m Kiyoko Yasutake, apparently.” I scrunched up my nose. “And before you ask, I didn’t choose the name.”

Light glanced at L, features a fine mask of thinly veiled exasperation. Clearly, Light understood the meaning as well as I did.

He shook his head, avoiding a second round of the Epic Staring Battle. “So the investigation team is only four members?” he asked.

“No, we have other trusted members on the outside. And among them is one who can only be contacted directly by me. Has Yamada-chan not told you?”

Matsuda winced, but inhaled sharply as if he expected something exciting to occur.

I scowled. “Confidential information is something I take seriously, L. And the Kira Case is not to be taken lightly.” It was true, at least. Since Light and I agreed not to talk about what happened at the task force headquarters after the Sakura TV incident, Light had received no information about the case on L’s side, including the existence of Mogi and Watari.

L made a noncommittal sound. “Now, how about we get right down to things? Would you take a look at the evidence we’ve gathered, and the unreleased tape that was sent to the TV station? Understand that taking the documents out of this room or making notes is prohibited.”

“So, what do you think, Light-kun?” L asked, thumb to mouth.

“Huh?” Light asked, turning to face L. He stood up abruptly, and said, “There may be one more person with Kira’s powers.”

“Huh? What do you mean, Light?” Uncle Soichiro demanded. His acting was on point, but the dilated pupils gave it away―if he was that shocked, his pupils would have contracted instead.

Clearly, Light noticed that the claim he’d made was taking him in a positive direction. “At the very least,” he continued, “there’s a high chance that this isn’t the same Kira. Up till now, Kira wouldn’t use suspects like this to show he can predict their deaths.”

“It’s the same . . .” Aizawa murmured.

“Exactly the same as L . . . I mean, Ryuzaki’s reasoning,” Matsuda clarified.

“And,” Light went on, “if Kira needs a name and a face to kill someone, then how does it explain that the cops who showed up at the police station were killed?”

“Exactly, Light-kun. We are also assuming this is a second Kira.” L confirmed.

“So you knew, Ryuga―I mean, Ryuzaki? You were testing me?” I couldn’t help then but notice Light’s gesture cluster―it was like he’d intentionally chosen the most obvious hostile/defensive cluster. His arms were folded with his fingers tucked in, creating a partial barrier, he was leaning slightly away from L, his head was angled downwards in clear disapproval, and his left foot was pointing toward the exit in the room.

He was non-verbally _announcing_ his discomfort.

“It wasn’t a test,” L said, and shrugged. “If I was the only one who came up with a Second Kira theory, then it wouldn’t be as persuasive. With you also thinking the same thing, the theory is greatly strengthened. You really are a great help, Light-kun.”

“Uh,” interjected Matsuda, “but Kimiko said the same thing, right? Wasn’t that enough confirmation?”

“Well, she didn’t say it in front of us. For all we know, Ryuzaki could have come up with that on his own and gotten her to agree with the theory,” Aizawa disagreed.

Miffed, I said, “I think I deserve more credit than that. I’m fully capable of figuring things out for myself, and I’m really not prone to manipulation.”

Light’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, keeping me from saying something I might regret.

“Then it’s decided,” L said. “First, we must stop the Second Kira. He’s clearly on Kira’s side, and not very bright. He may respond to a message from the real Kira. If a second Kira, doesn’t really exist, then it’s meaningless, but it’s still worth a try. We need to be thinking about how to deal with the real Kira, but we must focus on this first.”

Light closed his eyes for a second, allowing a subdued (yet somehow calculated) smile onto his face. “Impressive, Ryuzaki,” he said, his tone laced with determination and something almost playful. “I was just thinking that was the best option―”

“And for this, Light-kun . . .” A slow, snakelike smile that had no business being on L’s face made an appearance. He looked _downright sinister_. “I want _you_ to play the part of the real Kira.”

The declaration chilled the room thirty degrees.

Shock was written all over Light’s face, clear as day. “M-me?”

The devil’s smirk had left L’s face. “Yes, with your abilities, it should be easy,” he said, as if nothing had happened. “We don’t have much time. Can you please write up a message from the real Kira that we can use during tonight’s news?”

Light seemed to be hiding a glare. Nonetheless, he nodded.

Unruffled, L continued, Matsui-san, I need a high quality Kira image that will make him look real. Aihara-san, prepare the dubbing machine.”

“Yes.”

“Asahi-san, contact all the TV stations, and reserve a ten minute block every hour starting at seven tonight.”

“Understood.”

“Kimiko-chan”―he used my first name, not the alias―“you are to help Light-kun with the script.”

I shared a glance with Light and shrugged. _Nothing to do about it_ , I tried to say.

The small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth seemed to say, _At least he didn’t send you off for a pointless errand._

I smirked. _Well, I’m glad you two aren’t going to be alone together. Goodness knows what kind of war you’ll start._

 _Ha, ha_ , he shook his head. _I’m more scared about what_ you’d _do. I wouldn’t put it past you to get into a physical fight with him._

I almost scoffed. _I do have self-control, Light. He won’t bait me into anything._

Light seemed conflicted. _Yeah_ , he finally agreed, _for both of our sakes, I’d certainly hope so._

I scowled as his cheeky smile reappeared. _Hey!_

L returned with pencil and paper within a minute. He seemed unused to having to go fetch things himself, but it was a small price to pay for Watari’s absence. He just placed them on the table without a word and left for his room.

By then, Light and I were the only ones left in the main room of the suite. Under my breath, I whispered, “Do you think he’s going to sleep?”

Light just shrugged. “How do you think we should start?”

I frowned. “We want them to know this isn’t the real Kira. Start with that, I think. ‘I am Kira. The _true_ Kira.’ That sounds good.”

Light nodded, noting it down. “We should say Kira’ll show leniency,” he added, and I nodded. “This way, the impostor might feel obliged to come out. But we need to tell this fake off, too. What he’s been doing is _wrong_ and it seems to be out of a selfish desire to get Kira’s attention. I won’t stand for it.”

“And nor would Kira. That’s a good point.” I said, ignoring the glimmer in his eyes that searched mine for understanding, for me to _just tell him if I knew_.

I ignored it, hoping my pupils didn’t dilate as a giveaway tell.

“Right,” he said, turning away. “Well . . . Kira would want L dead, right?”

“Maybe so, but the whole point of this broadcast is to stop this impostor from killing L or the Director-General,” I pointed out. He really wanted L dead that badly . . . and he was honestly making it ridiculously obvious that he was trying to get me to admit that I knew he was Kira.

Light didn’t meet my eyes. “Yeah.”

We finished the final draft within the hour. “Is that good enough, Ryuzaki?” Light asked as L came over to scan through the page.

“It’s very well done, Light-kun,” L said, then lowered the page. “In fact, I can’t find a single fault within it. But wouldn’t Kira want me dead?”

Light cast a glance my way, the words _You got us into this mess_ written all over his expression.

Indignantly, I said, “Well, the whole point of this fake broadcast is so that you _don’t_ die, Ryuzaki. This Kira is far more dangerous than the first one, and we can’t afford to take any chances. The entire Kira Investigation team can’t really do anything without your influence.”

“Hmm.”

 _Be nice, be nice, be nice_ , I repeated to myself to keep from strangling him. _Prove to Light that you have self-control!_ That was enough for me to school my expression into one of apathy.

“Aihara-san, the script is ready. Here you are,” L handed over the script to Aizawa without so much as looking at him.

“Right,” he said, grabbing the script and leaving.

Three hours later, Light, L, and I were on one couch, Uncle Soichiro and Aizawa in the armchairs, and Matsuda had pulled up a wooden chair to watch the broadcast. I glanced at Light as I thought, _This went . . . exactly as planned._

It should have been below me to make fun of one of his signature lines, but I couldn’t help myself. In fact, it loosed some of the tension that had been building up over the past few hours.

Unfortunately, that tension was built right back up as I left the building and my phone buzzed with an email.

 

> _From: Misa⋆Amane (amane.misamisa@gmail.com)_
> 
> _Hi, Kimiko! I found your email~ I hope you don’t mind! Wanna meet up at Shinichi Coffee and Desserts for lunch tomorrow? Dress nicely~_
> 
> _Hugs!_
> 
> _Misa-Misa_

 

I bit my lip as I replied.

 

> _Replyto: Misa⋆Amane (amane.misamisa@gmail.com)_
> 
> _Hello, Misa,_
> 
> _Although I’m quite surprised to know you managed to get my email, I’m sure it’s something that can be cleared up with a break. Lunch at Shinichi Coffee sounds great! Is 1:35 okay with you?_
> 
> _Many thanks,_
> 
> _Kimiko_

 ✧ ✧ ✧

The next day, I found myself blocks away from the coffee shop, when Misa tackled me to the ground. “Kimiko! We have so much to talk about!” She pulled back a little. “Misa loves your outfit! Now come on!” she cheered, then whispered in my ear, “Rem’s waiting inside, at the table I reserved.”

I nodded, allowing her to lead me in. When we finally sat down, Misa purred, her tone cold and almost hostile, “Now, Kimiko, tell me what _you_ know about Kira.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so pleased to say that today is officially Ruling Child's first anniversary! I posted it on FanFiction.net exactly one year ago, on October 15th, 2016. I have a full speech written there, so please go and check it out! All your support is appreciated! Thank you!
> 
> ~Emma


	19. Misa's Inanity is Going to End Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Misa's struck. Well, Kimiko, what's your next move? And how are you going to deal with Light? You've avoided the conversation for long enough . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, net neutrality hasn't been repealed yet. Well, this means I can post a new chapter today, on January 1st, 2018! I'm relieved right now, but the links will continue to work just in case. Enjoy!

“Well, Kimiko?” Misa’s tone slithered and coiled like a snake, cold and cutting.

I had _not_ been prepared for Misa to act like this. I froze, just staring at her. Then:

“Surely you know a lot more about Kira than this, Kimiko. You _did_ say that it was your job to get involved with him.”

“Misa?”

Misa’s _wicked_ expression softened, morphing back into the bubbly Misa Amane I’d known. “Well, Kimi-chan?” I winced at Light’s nickname for me. Thankfully, Misa didn’t notice. “What did you think of that? Misa’s newest role in her next movie is as a yandere! How did I do?” she chirped, happily going into idle banter.

“You . . . That was spot-on, Misa,” I said, cautiously glancing at Rem. “I’m sure you’ll perform that role well.”

“Misa thinks so too! Do you think a yandere would fit me?”

 _Unnervingly so_. Out loud, I said, “I think you could play the role well. Just . . . don’t let your acting bleed into your real life, okay?”

Misa smiled contentedly and Rem gave me a look of approval. _Phew._ I plastered a smile of my own onto my face.

“I don’t know,” she pouted. “I _love_ the idea of someone willing to do anything―even kill―for their love. It’s so romantic! And that dedication . . . it’s so perfect!”

“Misa,” I said softly, hoping no one would overhear, “do you know where the term ‘ _yandere_ ’ came from?”

Puzzlement crossed Misa’s face. “No,” she said at last.

 _Oy vey._ I withheld a long, exaggerated sigh. “The term _yandere_ is actually combination of _yanderu_ and _deredere_ ,” I said carefully. “ _Yanderu_ meaning to be sick, and _deredere_ to be lovestruck. It isn’t really . . .”

“Advisable,” Rem filled in. “I must agree with her. I do not think it is considered ‘normal’ to want to kill for love.”

I shot Rem a grateful glance. “Thank you, Rem. I couldn’t have put it better.”

Misa pouted for a second, but continued, “Well, what about Kira’s video? Should I listen to him? Or should I kill L? Well, I don’t want Kira to be mad at me . . . I think I should listen to him! That would mean I won’t kill L. Kira can trust me, right?”

“Uh, yeah . . .” I blinked. “But don’t you think it’s a little strange that the police allowed this video to be aired while your videos were supposedly against the police?”

Misa brushed it off. “The police were probably trying to let the public know there are two Kiras.”

“But why now? They aren’t even allowing civilians to know anything about the investigation.”

“Well, maybe it’s so that the public knows what’s going on and will be more careful.”

“Even so, would the police really have let Kira air his own message? Look, Misa, I’m not trying to prove you wrong or anything, I’m just saying this looks weird. In fact, I can say with confidence that the Japanese police would _never_ go to such lengths. It has to be the work of L―”

“L’s an idiot,” Misa said decidedly. A smug smile had crawled onto her face. _So the bubbly personality really was an act_ , I noted. “Even if he’s managed to locate Kira, Kira’s only been getting more powerful. Kira got those FBI agents, and L’s been falling behind.”

I let out a drained sigh. “But that’s only because L isn’t going to reveal any information to the public. Kira needs L’s name and face―you know that―but L only needs to know who Kira is. Kira has a greater disadvantage, too, since _absolutely no one_ knows L’s name, and L won’t give it away.” I had to pinch my thigh through my jeans to keep myself from losing my patience with her entirely.

It wasn’t even like Misa was a danger to me!

“Which is why Kira needs me! I can see L’s name for him!” she argued.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, warding off the headache― _How had I_ ever _assumed that she wasn’t going to exasperate me?_ ―and exhaled through my nose. “Misa―”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence, because a plate of peach tarts and another plate of cheesecake appeared in the hands of a waitress in front of us. “Here is your order,” she said, bowed, and left.

I had already started salivating at the sheer smell of the tarts. “These are my favourites,” I murmured offhandedly. The aroma of the peach and pastry, combined with the dollop of whipped cream on it would have been enough to have me scarfing down the entire thing had I possessed less self-control.

But I didn’t miss the small yet vicious smile on Misa’s face before she schooled her expression into one of relief. “Misa is so glad to hear that,” she giggled. “Rem, would you like something?”

“I am fine, Misa,” she said passively, but neither Misa nor I had missed her glance at the pastries.

“Here, have a tart,” I said softly, handing one of the baked treasures to her.

She accepted it, her purple lips curving upwards ever so slightly.

Of course, it wasn’t an act of sheer generosity that prompted me to offer her a tart. I wasn’t _that_ selfless. I needed to stay on Misa’s good side, but only so that I could get to Rem. After all, if I could convince Rem not to kill L . . .

If L didn’t die . . .

Just _if_ . . .

Then what?

Then . . . then Kira would have to be caught? No, I wouldn’t let that happen . . . but it could . . . and then what? If L didn’t die, there was no way he’d stop investigating the Kira Case, and nor would Uncle Soichiro, so . . . would Light have to give up his Death Note? But there  was no way he’d do that . . .

“Kimi-chan . . .” Misa said, the nickname snapping me out of my reverie. I’d need to work that out later today, when I got home.

“Sorry, I was wondering what we should do next,” I explained, not bothering to elaborate.

“So should Misa respond to Kira?” Misa asked after a bite of cheesecake.

 _Not like I could dissuade you._ “I think you should do what feels right,” I said instead.

Misa nodded. “Okay! Ooh, that reminds me: do you have a boyfriend yet?”

The question took me by surprise. I’d never even considered dating―not with the whole plot of Death Note taking up my head. I mean, I’d had an on-off crush on Light every now and then, since we were about fourteen, but I’d never really looked for anything more than a distant friendship in anyone other than Light or Sayu.

I didn’t really care, though―I never had. I’d never wanted a relationship with someone I wasn’t already close to. There was a word for that― _demiromantic_ , I think.

“No,” I said airily, “but there is one person I’m close to. We’re not in a relationship or anything―”

“Misa gets it! Kimiko’s just shy!” Misa giggled, smirking.

 _Isn’t_ she _supposed to be the one in love with Light?_

“Misa, please. He’s just a friend.” I insisted.

Misa just hummed as I felt my face heat up. _Curse my stupid pale skin and obvious blushes._

Ridiculous. Light was my _friend._  Absolutely nothing more. Nothing. Not at all. No matter how many times I’d wanted to―

_No! Stop thinking!_

“You’re blushing, Kimi-chan!” Misa sang.

“No I’m not,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands as I drew out the “o”.

“You totally are!”

“Do _you_ have a boyfriend?” I asked in retaliation.

“Well, Kira’s my soulmate!” Misa said, a self-satisfied grin on her face.

Come on, that was ironic.

 _She still can’t lay claim to Light that easily!_ some part of me protested, but of course, I couldn’t do anything—especially with Rem watching me like a hawk.

I frowned. “You can’t say that for sure, though. For all you know, Kira could be a wizened old man in his eighties.” Something in me wondered if I was being petty, but I ignored it. After all, Misa was the one who’d end up forcing Light into a relationship he didn’t want—and for almost six years, and maybe even longer if Light had survived the Yellow Box Warehouse encounter with Near.

I masked my grimace and added, “I think being an associate is perhaps a better idea.”

“Hmm,” Misa just said in response. “That’s true. But even if it comes to it, I’m more powerful than Kira, since I have the Eyes.”

“So you’ll kill Kira if he doesn’t accept you?” I raised an eyebrow. If that was the case, I’d tell Light about her immediately.

Misa didn’t respond.

“Misa,” I said, trying to make my voice as soothing as possible, like I would if Sayu had a nightmare. “You need to make a decision. If you don’t know what you’re going to do, you won’t be able to make a difference.”

Misa stood up abruptly, head down. “I . . . I don’t think I’ll be able to kill Kira,” she whispered. “My parents would never approve―not after Kira’s done so much for me . . .” It took me a minute to realise Misa was softly sobbing.

I stood up too, and placed an arm around her. Despite everything she’d done―and yes, that included murder out of what was a selfish desire to meet Kira―I pitied her. _Death Note 13_ showed that she’d been eighteen when her parents were murdered in front of her―my age now, as it happened.

Even if my mother had died here as I was thirteen, I hadn’t really _been_ thirteen at the time, not if you counted the twelve years I’d had as Sienna. And as for Hayato, I didn’t have any regrets to see him go.

But for Misa, who’d likely had a completely normal, whole life before it had been torn apart, the grief could have taken over her completely. The sheer fact that she managed to remain bubbly and a romantic despite all she’d been through was quite a feat.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t much of a surprise that she’d be possessive, or that _yandere_ s appealed to her.

Thankfully, this was the café that Light and I would visit a lot, since it was close to To-Oh, so I knew how much everything costed. I left the right amount of money for the dishes Misa had ordered in an envelope on the table, then walked Misa out of the café.

Rem’s approval was written all over her face. “Thank you, Kimiko,” she said.

“You don’t have to respond immediately,” I explained. “Think it over, and don’t push yourself, okay?”

Misa nodded, smiling gratefully at me. “Thank you,” she said, eyes earnest. “I’ll go home now, and I’ll talk to you later! Bye!” Misa quickly darted out of sight, and I let loose a sigh of relief. _Pull the strings correctly now, and you’ll have everything under control_ , I thought to myself. _But first, there are more important matters to deal with._

A low voice startled me. “Again, I thank you for helping Misa,” Rem said, still stoic.

“Oh, you’re welcome, Rem,” I said, shooting her my warmest smile. Or rather, what I hoped was my warmest smile.

“But I would like to ask you a few things. If you would accompany Misa to her house, I could ask you there,” Rem continued.

I bit my lip. This was a big bargain—I’d told Light that I was going to the library, thinking the café meeting wouldn’t take long, but this was different. If I messed up here, things could go very wrong.

“I . . . I have to try to convince―” I cut myself off. There was no need for Rem to know that I knew who Kira was. “There are people at home I’d have to talk to about it―they don’t know that I came to meet Misa here.”

“Please arrange to meet Misa soon,” Rem just said.

I nodded, resisting the urge to say _yes ma’am_. “I will,” I said, and Rem left, trailing after Misa.

Right then, more than wanting L to survive, I felt like Rem deserved to survive. Her selflessness and respect for Misa was honestly admirable. I tried imagining Ryuk caring for someone that much . . . and failed miserably.

Smiling to myself, I went back home.

* * *

The next morning, Sayu was leaning over a chemistry worksheet at the dining table. “Hey, Kimiko,” she said absently as she twirled her lead pencil on the table.

“What are you working on?” I asked as I took off my shoes and moved over to join her.

“Stoichiometry,” she said, letting her head drop to the table. “It’s stupid and doesn’t make sense. Why do I even need to know this anyway? I mean, why not teach us the important stuff, like balancing taxes? I don’t need to know how many moles―or was it gophers?―of sodium there are in fifty grams of sodium hydroxide!”

I had been suppressing laughter since the gopher comment, but the end was too much. I allowed myself to laugh for a few seconds before retaining my composure. “Sorry,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath, “but that was hilarious. Anyhow, what does the problem say?”

“‘Three grams of magnesium is added to twelve grams of ethanoic acid.’ Then there’s the chemical formula: ‘Mg + 2CH3COOH > (CH3COOH)2Mg + H2. The mass of one mole of magnesium is twenty-four grams, and the mass of one mole of CH3COOH is sixty grams.’ That’s ethanoic acid, right?”

“Yep,” I confirmed. “It’s actually also called acetic acid, which you’d know as vinegar.”

“No!” Sayu exclaimed incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. So, what does the rest of the question say?”

“Uh, it says, ‘Which one, magnesium or ethanoic acid, is in excess?’ And it tells me to show my reasoning. I have to use the mole thing, right?”

I nodded, “Yep. Now, one mole of magnesium is twenty-four grams, right? So, what you need to do i―”

“What am I missing?” Light asked as he emerged from the stairs.

“Oh, I’m teaching Sayu about gophers in chemistry,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

Light looked at me, confused, as Sayu rammed her elbow into my side. “Kimiko!” she protested. “I _know_ they’re called moles!”

Realisation dawned on Light’s face as he sat on Sayu’s other side. “It’s pretty simple, Sayu,” he said, looking at the worksheet. “You see, the equation pretty much gives you all the answers. When the magnesium reacts with the ethanoic acid, it forms the section on the right side of the equation.”

Sayu nodded.

“Now, we see that there’s more ethanoic acid here than magnesium, right?”

“So . . . there’s two moles of ethanoic acid with the magnesium, and then there’s the hydrogen that the reaction gives out . . .”

“That’s right. So―”

“So that means there’s excess vinegar!” Sayu said decidedly. Light and I nodded encouragingly as Sayu wrote down the answer.

“Question two. Oh, this one’s in the formula as well. It asks how many moles of hydrogen are released. Two molecules, so two moles, right?”

“Yep,” I affirmed, just as my cellphone rang. “Just gimme a sec,” I said, excusing myself.

Light’s seemed to go off at the same time, I noticed as I lifted the phone to my ear. “ _It’s Ryuzaki. The Second Kira sent another message. Make your way to headquarters immediately._ ” Polite.

“Sorry, Sayu, but we need to go,” Light said, already halfway to the door.

“What? _Both_ of you?” she protested.

“Well, you’ve got the hang of the worksheet, right?”

Sayu sighed heavily. “Well, have fun on your date anyway,” she muttered.

“It isn’t a date, Sayu,” Light said. “We’re meeting up with a couple of classmates for a group paper on Law Enforcement.”

“Mhmm,” Sayu said dismissively, then went back to her worksheet. “Bring back a cheesecake!” she added a moment later.

Light smiled fondly in Sayu’s direction as he pulled on his jacket and we left the house.

“Think she’ll fair well with that chem worksheet?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Light said casually.

I raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure I remember someone having a hard time with stoichiometry himself at some point.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” he said, poking me lightly.

I laughed quietly, but there wasn’t much weight to it. Or rather, the laugh was heavy.

“Something wrong?” Light asked, and I was sure I detected the same heaviness in his tone.

“It’s just . . . been so long since we were able to speak to each other this . . . this _normally_ in so long,” I said. “This freely.” Neither of us had addressed the huge elephant in the room yet, namely, the fact that Light was Kira. And I knew it.

There was a sort of distant anguish in Light’s eyes―anguish that he’d never ordinarily try to hide from me―and it was obvious that he was _aching_ for me to confront said elephant.

I wanted to. I really, _really_ , wanted to.

And I could, really. I could get the whole thing over with. Of course, not right now, but when we got home today, all I’d need to say is, _Hey, Light, could you come to my place? I wanted to talk to to you._ It would be that simple, but there was no way it wouldn’t be just as chaotic.

Now, with L in the middle, it would be impossible to just keep a reaction like that from him. He’d definitely figure it out, and if he were to piece together my involvement with Misa, Light and I would both be in for it.

No, it was too soon to confront the elephant. (I’ll name the elephant Becky, since it’ll be here for a while. Yes, of course I’m joking.)

I could only talk to Light about it after I figured out how L could survive without negatively affecting Light, and when I’d managed to sway Rem. Until then, I’d play clueless to Light, innocent to L, supportive to Misa, and kind to Rem.

Then we’d talk about Beck― _the elephant_. Was I so hopeless that I was naming an idiom _Becky_?

“Yeah,” Light said, snapping me back to reality. “But some things don’t change.”

“Oh?”

“You spaced out again.”

“Damn it, Light!” I groaned, burying my face in his shoulder, barely suppressing a laugh.

Light laughed as well, placing his arm around me.

The rest of the walk was peacefully quiet. I was totally at ease with Light as we walked towards the hotel, completely ignoring Becky. _The eleph―you know what? I’m not even going to bother. Becky the Elephant it is._

“You finally made it,” L said, his tone unruffled as usual. “Well, I received a stream of the video a minute ago, so it isn’t too late.”

_That smug little as―_

“ _Kira, thank you for responding._ ” Misa’s filtered voice played through the laptop before I could finish cursing L. “ _I will do as you say_.”

Oh, _come on_ , Misa! I’d _warned_ her it was a fake as explicitly as possible, and she still went and did this! Light’s expression was disdainful too, but it was quickly replaced with a more casual expression of disbelief.

“ _I_ _want to meet you, Kira_ ,” Misa continued, “ _I don’t think you have the Eyes, but I won’t kill you. Don’t worry._ ”

I withheld a groan. Misa was better than _that_ , right? Surely she wasn’t that obsessed with her desire to meet Kira _before_ seeing Light . . .

No, that was wishful thinking. Anything I’d said to her yesterday had gone right over her head. I should have known, too.

“‘Having the eyes . . . ?’ What does that mean?” Aizawa murmured.

L frowned slightly, if you could even call it that.

“ _Please think of a way we can meet without the police knowing. We can confirm each other when we meet by showing our Shinigami._ ”

_Firstly, Misa, grammar. Secondly, you really shouldn’t announce things like ‘let’s meet without the police knowing’. It’ll set their guard higher. Thirdly, did you have to reveal Shinigami?_

Then, a loud _CLANG_ reverberated through the room. L had fallen on his rear end. According to Ohba, that meant L had pretty much pieced it all together by now. “Sh . . . Shinigami? Am I supposed to accept the existence of such a thing?” And there was the denial.

 _Wait . . . from the panel image I had, he’d said “are_ we _supposed to”, not “am_ I _supposed to”. . . was that a translation error, or is this something different altogether?_ I shook my head. Even if it meant something, it was largely irrelevant.

“Shinigami? No way . . .” Matsuda murmured, sounding somewhere between awed and dismissive.

“You’re right, Ryuzaki,” Light said, voice nonchalant, “Shinigami can’t possibly exist.”

I dared a glance at Ryuk, who scoffed and turned his flat nose in the air.

“Well,” L began, angling himself backwards to face us, “Kira also made a prisoner write something that seemed to suggest the existence of Shinigami.”

“Then,” Uncle Soichiro looked L in the eyes. “Should we assume this is the same Kira? The same person using the same word?”

“That’s not possible, Dad,” Light shook his head, his coppery-bronze hair swaying with the motion. “If this was the same Kira, then there’s no way he’d reply to our video tape.”

“Light’s right,” I agreed. “Not only is it out of character for the original, but if it was the original, the way this Kira has phrased it outright states that this one is another person who has attained Kira’s powers. Saying he wants to meet the ‘Kira’ makes that much obvious.”

“Exactly. Besides, who would Kira go along with our plan and stop L from going on TV?”

“Then the real Kira and the Second Kira have joined forces and are trying to confuse the investigation with the word ‘Shinigami’?” Aizawa mused.

“That’s also not possible,” L said, finally attempting to get up from the floor. “As Light-kun said, if they were working together, then they wouldn’t stop their plan to kill me. And, as Yamada-chan said, this Kira hasn’t met the original yet. The Second Kira is acting from his own feelings, and not Kira’s ideals. It’s not related to Kira’s goals of ‘punishing criminals to change the world and killing anyone who gets in my way.’”

L almost seemed sarcastic as he said it. I frowned. Something was off, somehow. I couldn’t really explain it.

“The Second Kira’s own feelings . . . desire to meet Kira . . .” he murmured softly. “That’s what they are.”

“That’s right, the Second Kira isn’t acting out of a desire to change the world.” _Careful, Light, your Kira is showing._ “They’re merely interested in Kira. Maybe this ‘Shinigami’ term is describing the ability to kill? ‘Confirming each other by showing our Shinigami.’ We can think of that to mean that they’ll show their abilities to kill people.”

“Yes . . .” L said finally, but continued, “but Yamada-chan and I discussed what Kira had meant when he’d sent those notes to me through some of the criminals he’d controlled. He had mentioned gods of death, and we considered the possibility that Kira attained his powers through a reaper of sorts. If Kira did, then it’s quite possible that another reaper has empowered another person.”

“We were also considering the possibility of Kira referring to himself as a god of death, though,” I interjected, “so Light’s theory of showing each other their ability to kill would make more sense than there being a reaper involved.”

“Ryuzaki . . . when was this conversation?” Aizawa asked, his tone laced with distrust.

“It was some time after the Second Kira’s videos were released,” L said noncommittally.

Matsuda narrowed his eyes slightly. The expression didn’t suit him, to say the least.

“Either way, from now on, we’ll just let Kira and the Second Kira handle everything.

“Let them?” Aizawa repeated after a moment’s pause.

“We can assume that the Second Kira is very happy right now, after receiving a reply from Kira . . .  even if he knows it was created by the police. He’s succeeded in getting Kira’s attention.” L said, leaning further forward. “And he’s used terms only the two of them would understand. We’ll run this reply on tonight’s six-o’clock news on Sakura TV. Obviously, Kira must be paying attention to this back-and-forth between the Second Kira and the one we have created.

“From Kira’s view, he’d definitely want to avoid the Second Kira getting captured by the police. Kira may start worrying about what will happen if he doesn’t interfere.” L paused to wriggle his toes. “And with these circumstances, he’d have to use Sakura TV. The Internet is full of irresponsible claims about Kira’s and L’s identity, too, so it would be impossible to verify.”

Something about the grammar in that sentence rubbed me the wrong way, but I ignored it.

“And most importantly, judging from the Second Kira’s video message, it seems likely that he is bad with machines, and not particularly diligent.”

“You’re right, from what we saw with Kira and the FBI agents, Kira was a lot more precise than the Second Kira,” Matsuda mused.

I thought about glancing at Light, but it would have been too obvious, so I turned to L. “But, as I’m sure I’ve said several times, Ryuzaki, Kira’s still choosing to stay in the shadows. There’s a very small likelihood of him deciding to come out into the open now. You know that Kira’s more cautious than that.”

“That’s a good point, Kimi. Now the stakes are worse for Kira. Both Ryuzaki _and_ the Second Kira are trying to track him down, so making an appearance now would be more dangerous than it was before. Kira’s met L’s challenges head on from behind the shadows, so who’s to say he won’t do the same with the Second Kira?” The statement was innocuous enough, but since Light was already under suspicion, it seemed more like a way to reason out Kira’s silence while probing L for information.

If L caught on, he didn’t show it. “As it happens, I’ve been thinking about what the Second Kira will do if no reply comes from Kira.”

“You have?” Uncle Soichiro asked appraisingly.

A smile ghosted on L’s face. “The Second Kira will probably release more information to the police and media that Kira wants to keep secret, in order to pressure Kira into meeting him. That would be interesting.” L’s voice softened slightly, but it was brief enough for me to have imagined it.

“Indeed,” Ryuk cackled. It took me a second to realise that he was referring to L’s statement of Misa’s response seeming interesting.

“But, despite the odds, it would be even more interesting if Kira sends a reply in order to prevent this. If it happens, there’s a chance we could gain some physical evidence against Kira.”

But of course he knew that that wasn’t going to happen, so he was subtly trying to strengthen his theory that Light was Kira by bringing it up in the first place.

“Anyhow,” L continued blandly, “closely examine every piece of mail sent to any television station.”

 _Any television station?_ I shot Light a glance.

 _He’s L_ , his expression and slight shrug said, _neither of us expected anything else._

I exhaled through my nose. _Still, hearing him decide to be so dedicated is a little unnerving._

_Actually, I think it’s pride. He doesn’t want to lose to Kira, and he wants to prove himself superior by catching the Second Kira first. He’s already tried to show Kira that he can take control of the situation by sending the fake video._

I paused for a moment. Of course, it made sense. After the second chapter, it had become a battle to see who was better, rather than a battle for the sake of justice, no matter what it was to the outside world.

I nodded almost imperceptibly. _Yeah._

Aizawa looked up from a sheet of paper that had been in his blazer pocket. Reading aloud from it, he informed L that it was likely that the suspect had purchased the tapes around the Kansai region, and Matsuda reminded L that it was also likely the suspect was a female who was interested in celebrities, as per my reasoning.

As it would be another three weeks until Misa made her next move, I resigned myself to playing the role of Kimiko Yamada, the justice-seeking college student, blatantly ignoring Becky the Elephant Idiom and the desperation I’d seen in Light’s eyes.

Desperation that would continue to haunt me until L was dead or kept away from Light, permanently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you go. It's a bit shorter than the previous ones, but I certainly hope it'll do. 
> 
> Happy new year, and have a great 2018! I hope this chapter gave you a good start to the year!


	20. Announcement (IMPORTANT)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Net neutrality's repeal affects this, too.

**Hello, everyone. It's me, Emma.**

**Ordinarily, I'd be glad to say that the next chapter is almost done. However, I have some bad news.**

**Apart from my recent lack of updating due to my extremely busy life, there's the newest global situation to worry about:**

**The repeal of net neutrality.**

**I'm sure a lot of you will have heard of it by now. But, for those of you who haven't, net neutrality is what has made the internet free, open, and anonymous. Because of it, we don't need to pay to use the internet, and we can choose to remain anonymous on it. It gives us freedom and knowledge for free, and keeps us updated on the world at no extra cost.**

**However, if it is to be taken away, that would mean that out ISPs (internet service providers) would be the ones in charge of the internet, and by extension, the government. They would be able to control the websites we can see, therefore controlling what we know, and eventually, how we think.**

**How can we make decisions on our own when we don't have all the information required? How will we remain up to date when we can't know what's going on in the rest of the world? We'd only be able to choose from a limited set of options that will eventually lead to something worse.**

**Essentially, we're at risk of being brainwashed.**

**It may not seem like much right now, but the other problem is that we'd have to pay to use the internet as a whole. The types of websites could come in packages, such as the "Social Media Package" which could cost, say, $6.**

**A few hours ago, five FCC members decided to vote on whether to repeal net neutrality or not. The vote was 3-2 in favour of repealing it. There is still a chance it won't get through the courts, which is pretty much our last hope at this point.**

**I'm not going to rave on about my so-called "conspiracy theory" here, but what I'm essentially trying to say is that if this site will require me to pay real money in order to keep using it, I'm afraid to say that I will not continue to post here.**

**If you guys would like, however, I can set up a Google Drive link in order to view the chapters through Google Docs.**

**Here is the link:**

[Link 1](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1IaLSFqyEEtg5MqwMsY0pKWLNksB7ey8m)

**Or:**

[Link 2](https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1IaLSFqyEEtg5MqwMsY0pKWLNksB7ey8m)

 

**BUT!**

**If we get lucky and the repeal of net neutrality _does not_  pass the courts, and everything returns to normal, this chapter will be deleted and I will continue to post this as normal!**

**Again, I'm really sorry about this, and I do hope you understand. Thank you all for your support.**


	21. A Celebrity Crush or a Celebrity's Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things may have calmed down between L and Kira for a while . . . but what about Kimiko's relationships with those she cares about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I haven't updated in a while! I wanted to update at least by March 12th, my birthday, but, unfortunately, I had exams. My full explanation is on FFN.

My phone buzzed with an unknown number.  I was just about ready to tell whichever one of Light’s fans to  _ please buzz off because Light Yagami isn’t looking for a relationship right now and no, I am not his girlfriend  _ or _ jealous thank you goodbye _ as I brought the phone to my ear. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Oh, Kimiko, is this a bad time?” Matsuda’s voice asked timidly from the other line. 

Oh,  _ thank the gods _ . “Sorry, Matsuda—I thought you were someone else. I’ve been getting calls from random people nonstop.” 

“Telemarketers?” he asked, tone understanding. 

“Yeah,” I lied. I had a reputation to keep, after all. 

“They can be a bit of a pain,” Matsuda agreed. “Ryuzaki said that none of us should come to headquarters today for some reason.”

I paused. “He did?”

“Yeah. He said to let everyone on the Task Force know, so could you tell Light? The Chief’s still here—would you like to talk to him?”

“That would be great. Thanks, Matsuda,” I said gratefully. 

“Kimiko?” Uncle Soichiro’s voice was calm. “Is something wrong?” 

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Light has a fever,” I said carefully. “If you’re coming back tonight, could you pick up some medicine from the pharmacy?”

“Of course. And how are you feeling?” he asked, concern prominent in his tone. 

“I’m fine, but thanks for asking,” I smiled a little bit as I added, “but maybe you’d like to talk to Light?”

He agreed immediately, and I walked into Light’s room casually. “It’s your dad,” I explained, handing him the phone. 

Light’s posture straightened automatically. “Hi, Dad,” he said, his voice slightly cracked and subdued, but the smile on his face was warm enough to make me feel all gooey. “Yeah, it’s okay—I’m fine,” Light insisted, “if you’re too busy, there’s no need. I’m sure I’ll be o—”

And he broke out into a coughing fit. 

I quickly leaned over and patted his back softly until the coughs subsided. “It’s fine,” Light said into the phone again. “Do we have to come to headquarters, or—”

“Absolutely not!” I heard Uncle Soichiro say quite loudly. His voice quieted again, though, so I couldn’t hear the rest. 

“No need?” Light murmured softly. Uncle Soichiro must’ve told him that L had said not to come today. Light smiled again, closing his eyes in relief. “Thanks, Dad. See you later.”

Light handed the phone back to me with his eyes still closed. “Here.”

I took it from him almost silently. 

There was a silent pact between Light and I: when one of us was sick, there should be as little talk as possible. Especially since both of us tended to get headaches easily when feverish. That was also why I would have to pick up Light’s phone when he was ill, and vice-versa. 

“Where’s Sayu?” he asked, voice scratchy. 

“I think she said that Mayuko had bought tickets for a live Hideki Ryuga concert for today, and that she and Sunata were invited to go with her. Mayuko’s older sister went, too.”

“That’s good,” Light said, smiling. “Sayu’s been studying pretty hard recently, so she needs this break.”

I paused. I’d been so caught up with everything L-and-Kira related that I’d completely forgone talking to Sayu and Aunt Sachiko anymore, especially since I’d been spending more and more time alone at my house recently. I looked guiltily at Light. “She has?”

“Yep,” Light affirmed. “She got over ninety percent in a pop quiz in class yesterday.”

“That’s great!” I whisper-shouted. “I’m surprised she didn’t come over and tell me.”

“You were busy,” Light said flatly. “I’m pretty sure she feels that you’ve stopped caring. The last time you actually sat down with her and said more than a passing sentence to her was last month with the chemistry worksheet.”

_ You’ve stopped caring. _ The words echoed through my head. “I—I . . .” I hung my head. If I tried to explain myself, it would just seem like an excuse.

“You barely talk to  _ me _ anymore, unless it’s at headquarters, Kimiko.” The use of my name jarred me—but not as much as the dull, yet somehow accusatory tone of his voice. Then it hit me me—why the fact that his tone was so dull hurt. 

_ He was giving up on me. _

“Light, I . . .” The words caught in my throat. No—they didn’t. I just had no words to give. I, the articulate one who could steer most conversations where I pleased, was rendered unable to respond. 

Words simply couldn’t express what I was thinking, or the guilt I felt. 

“I don’t . . . there’s nothing I can say . . .”  _ I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, and even though an apology won’t come close to making it all right, it’s all I can do right now. I’ll make it up to you and Sayu, I swear. _

The answering message in Light’s eyes was clear. 

**✧ ✧ ✧**

> _ Replyto: Misa⋆Amane (amane.misamisa@gmail.com) _
> 
> _ Hello, Misa, _
> 
> _ Thanks for inviting me over. I’ll be at your place in five minutes.  _
> 
> _ Best, _
> 
> _ Kimiko _

 

I stood outside Misa’s apartment door, and pressed the doorbell. 

Misa opened the door almost immediately, wrapping me in a hug. “Mi-chan!”

It took me a moment to process the new nickname. 

“Hello, Misa,” I said, patting her back in return. She was at least a good six inches shorter than me. 

“ _ Mrow! _ ” A black calico kitten bounded off the bed, nuzzling my legs. Female, from what I could tell. 

“She’s  _ adorable _ !” I gushed, stroking the fur behind her ears. She purred softly, then darted into one of the rooms. 

“Her name’s Misty,” Misa said proudly. 

“You chose an English name?” I asked, slightly surprised. 

“Yep! I mean,  _ Misty _ sounds really cute, and it suits her—she’s usually really proud, but she gets excited when seeing new people.” Misa rambled, happy to talk about her cat. “She keeps me company when I miss my parents and sister.”

“You have a sister?” Of course, it was mentioned in  _ Death Note 13 _ here and there, or I’d have certainly forgotten it, but I’d assumed it was a bluff that Aiber used with L’s permission. 

“Yep! Her name’s Akemi, and she’s about three years older than me,” Misa affirmed cheerily. “Rem, Kimiko’s here!”

Rem phased through the wall, into the living room. “Hello, Kimiko.”

“Hi, Rem,” I said, adding a bit of cheer to my voice as I shot her a smile. “How are you?”

Rem blinked—or winked, since her other eye was covered, it was impossible to tell—in surprise. Clearly, while she may have been enamoured with Misa, Rem hadn’t been appreciated enough herself. Either that, or she was just getting used to the fact that I was going to continually be polite to her. “I’m fine,” she said finally. 

“Kimiko, are you okay?” Misa asked, facing me. Her eyes were wide with concern. 

“Huh? Yeah, why?” I asked, the question taking me by surprise. 

“That isn’t a real smile.” Misa’s voice was firm. “I’m good with smiles, since I’m a model.”

I gave in. “I’ve . . . neglected a friend, and I’m not sure how to fix that trust between us.”  _ She needs to think I trust her anyway _ , I told myself. 

Misa pouted, humming as she thought. “The best thing is probably to spend more time with that friend, then. But I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to get them something to show that you appreciate them.” Misa’s pout went further. “But if there’s something Misa can do, I’m glad to help!”

I smiled—a genuine one—as Misa’s eyes lit up. I wondered offhandedly how I had despised her before. She was cute, even if she was annoying and pushy at times. 

Misa gasped suddenly. “Oh, Kimiko! I have to tell you—I passed an audition for a leading role with Hideki Ryuga in Mikonaka’s film,  _ Flying Grace _ ! Cool, right?”

I nodded as something struck me. “Misa, that’s it!”

Misa cocked her head sideways slightly. “What’s it?”

I reached out for a high five, and Misa complied. “I know how to make it up to her! Do you think you could get me Ryuga’s signature? She’s a huge fan of his!”

Misa grinned coyly. “Or I could try arrange a meeting for him with her . . .”

Words  _ could not _ express my shock as Misa said that. “Can you . . . can you really do that?”

“Yeah! He owes me a favour, so I could call it in!”

“I . . . thanks, Misa, but what I was really asking is whether you’re actually willing to do that for me?”

“Of course! Misa’s Kimiko’s friend, right? We’re supposed to help each other out. Besides, I still owe you for saving my live from that gross biker gang.” 

_ And score. _ I let out a breath of relief. “Thank you so much, Misa,” I breathed. 

“ _ Mrrrrrow _ ,” Misty whined as she raced into the living room. Rem followed after the cat, smiling faintly at it.  _ So Rem has a soft side for cute things, huh? _ That certainly was helpful information. 

My mind wandered to the Rilakkuma plush that I’d seen sometime back.  _ Maybe . . . nah, that would be weird _ . 

As I sat down to pet Misty—who seemed to have taken a great liking to me—Misa ended up calling Hideki Ryuga. I noted that she had a habit of walking around while on the phone, something that I used to do a lot before Aunt Sachiko had teased,  _ You’ll wear right through the floor if you keep doing that _ . 

“ _ Prrrrr _ ,” Misty arched her back as I scritched behind her soft black-and-pink ears, then bounded off my lap and tried to bat at my ponytail. “ _ Mrrrrr _ ,” she growled, pouncing. 

_ Misty is now my favourite Death Note character. _ I smiled at the kitten as she toyed with my hair, but even then, I was working to clear my head for the real reason I was here: to explain my situation to Rem, in a way that would benefit me. 

I inwardly cringed at how far I was already willing to go in order for me to get my own way. It made me wonder, for a moment . . . what would have happened if I  _ didn’t _ remember the original story of  _ Death Note _ , and I had been the one to pick up the notebook myself. Would I have done the same thing as Light? Would Light have been working against me—Kira, or would he have agreed with the idea?

I shook the thoughts out of my head. There was no use dwelling on what  _ could have _ been. What was important was trying to make a difference in the canon plot now. 

Misty batted at my hand now, upset that I had stopped scratching her ears. I gave her a half-hearted smile as I continued, her purrs filling the room once again. 

According to Rem, Misa had to leave for Mikonaka’s film shoot at precisely ten minutes to five. That meant she was to leave in a couple of minutes, which would give me some time to talk to Rem alone. It was precisely why I’d chosen today. 

“Bye, Kimiko!” Misa called from the doors as she tossed me a set of keys. “I want you to keep the spare keys if you want to come over anytime, okay?”

As the door closed behind her, one baffling thought was running through my head:  _ Haven’t I only met her thrice before today? _

**✧ ✧ ✧**

Rem sat down—well, squatted seemed like a more appropriate description—opposite me. Misty paid no heed to her, which prompted a question from me:

“Can Misty see you?”

Rem seemed slightly surprised with my sudden divergence from the topic I had previously wanted to clear with her. “It would appear not. I believe that only humans can see us upon touching the note.” 

“Interesting,” I mused. “So, Rem, what exactly did you want me to tell you?” There, now Rem would believe she was the one leading the conversation. 

Rem’s tone was solemn as she said, “You know a lot about Death Notes and Shinigami. You even know about my past. I wish to know why.” It wasn’t a question. “Furthermore, you are not affected by Death Notes, or any of the Shinigami powers. You are human, yet your name and lifespan as as much of a mystery to me as Misty’s.”

“It’s pretty complicated,” I began, “and I’m not entirely sure how it works, but here’s what I know:

“I remember dying—as a different person, in a different universe. I had a different name, and I looked completely different. Something must’ve happened for me to be able to remember my previous life, or whatever it was, and I guess I’m still the past me.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, but before I could continue, Rem spoke. “I guess according to you Shinigami, I’m already dead.”

“It is not quite as you think,” Rem murmured thoughtfully. “When a human dies, anything remaining of their existence that is non-corporeal, such as memories and traits, will fade entirely—it will go to Mu.”

I nodded—that made sense. As I had come to realise,  _ Mu _ wasn’t a place, but rather, an expression. It was more like a trick question—it meant nothingness, but in a way that means something ceased to exist altogether. For example, if someone were to ask me,  _ Where is L’s soul? _ I would reply with  _ Mu _ , to say that he simply didn’t have one. 

. . . Perhaps that was a poor example, but it should get the message across.

“I believe that something must have happened to give you the memories of a dead person from another universe. It is that or a sort of hallucination before birth that you have held on to tightly.”

“How does that even work . . . ?” I murmured under my breath. So  _ I _ wasn’t Sienna Mason . . . Sienna was a girl who died in another universe . . . who may not have even been real . . .

_ Damn it, save the freakout for later! There’s a serious issue to deal with here! I can’t mess up now. _ I took a deep breath, ignoring the discomfort that swelled within. 

“I am not sure,” Rem said, “and I only know this much due to my rank as a Shinigami. But your lack of a name and lifespan would appear to counteract my statement. It is quite an enigma, but it is most likely that by acquiring memories from another universe, and having believed that to be your true identity, you do not believe yourself to genuinely be a part of this universe.”

What Beyond had said was different, but it made more sense to believe a Shinigami itself. After all, Rem had no reason to lie to me as of yet, and I had important information for her. 

“I suppose,” I said, agreeing. 

_ Not real not real not real not real _ —the words kept going through my head despite all my attempts to shove it down.

“But how do you know of mine and Misa’s past?” Rem asked, moving the conversation forward. 

I made a show of hesitating. “In the other universe, this time . . . all of Kira’s reign—it was actually a work of fiction. I managed to reference the important events and such here, so I was able to work out when Misa would be at the television station and I could intervene. I knew who she was all along—as I did with Kira.”

“So I assume you and Kira are already working together.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No,” I admitted, surprising Rem. “We aren’t—not, at least, in the way you would think. Circumstances . . . made things go differently than how I’d planned. I managed to get close, but I also managed to get attached. Well, anyway, he doesn’t know that I know he’s Kira.” Or at least, that was how it would remain, for now. 

“You cannot be killed by the power of the Death Note. Why do you not tell him?”

Now, it was time to say something honest. “I don’t know how it will affect the future here. If something changes, I don’t know how things will play out. In the original version, I did not exist, and now I want to stick to that as closely as possible. That way, I could make things alright.”

“What do you mean by that?” Rem looked extremely confused, but then I remembered that she didn’t know how  _ Death Note _ ended. 

“It doesn’t end well. Kira dies, L dies, and Misa dies, all their names written in Death Notes. So I know that they could all have lived longer. I don’t want any of them to die, and if you help me, then maybe that could be avoided.”

Rem stiffened. “And how do I know you are not lying to me?”

I smiled wryly. “You don’t. All you have is my word and faith. All you can do is trust me, I guess. Nothing beyond that. I suppose you’ll have to judge for yourself whether or not I can be trusted or I’m manipulating you and Misa. I don’t have anything to fear from you, after all.”

“No, but you are curious about your existence. You want answers, right?”  _ Smart. _ “I suppose that I will trust you—for now.”

“Good choice, Rem,” I said, my eyes closed. “But there’s one thing you should know about me first, so don’t say that I didn’t mention it later on—but just remember that this stays private.”

“Fine,” Rem said after almost a minute of contemplation. 

“If Kira wins and L dies, the future changes dramatically—no, even that’s an understatement. Kira ends up becoming a  _ kami _ too. He may have worshippers now, but practically the entire world will bow down to him in a few years time, if things play out as they’re supposed to. It’s . . . scary, actually. I shouldn’t say more, but I think you get the gist of what could happen.”

The corners of Rem’s purple lips pulled down. “That does not concern me as a Shinigami . . .” she murmured, “but would that not make Misa happy?”

I shook my head. “You aren’t seeing the big picture, Rem. I’ve already told you that Misa’s happiness would be only short-lived. She would die seven years from now, by taking her own life a year after Kira dies, by the pen of his own Shinigami.”

I thought of the carefree yet sly Misa, and glanced at the set of spare keys she’d left out for me to take. Despite having met Misa only thrice, a lot had actually happened between us. 

I invoked her compassion during our first meeting, and even though it was a pretense at the time, I did say that I only had hers and Kira’s best interests at heart. 

The second time, I saved her life without hesitation. It was, again, largely due to my own insistence that she remain unharmed for the sake of the canon plot remaining unchanged (and also because it was the right thing to do), but I was, admittedly, worried, albeit only slightly. 

The third time, at Shinichi . . . she completely opened up to me, and I truly understood her for the first time. She was alone, hurt, and scared, then scarred, and handed a weapon of mass murder. Misa possessed remarkable emotional strength, no matter what  _ Death Note 13 _ said. 

And she trusted me. I was almost purely self-motivated during our first two encounters, and I was worried that Misa would hold her knowledge of my interference over my head if I refused to cooperate with her for the third. But now, she trusted me enough to give her spare keys, and from what I’d gathered, she usually left her Death Note at home. 

Something inside me twisted. It was true that a part of it was her naïveté, but it felt wrong to view someone who trusted me implicitly so objectively. 

And then it hit me that maybe I saw Misa as a more than a tool—she had become a friend. 

_ Things have just gotten infinitely harder. _

Rem slowly nodded. “I will trust you, Kimiko Yamada . . . for now.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.  _ Mission success. _ “Thank you, Rem.”

It was at that moment that my phone chose to beep with a text. “It’s from Misa,” I said aloud. 

> _ Hey, Kimiko~ hideki said that he’s good with meeting this saturday! want me to come with you? (LOL) he’ll be there at hamarikyu garden at two, ok? _

Hamarikyu Garden . . . I remember that we went there back when Sayu was eight. She’d probably like it there, especially if she were to meet her favourite pop star. 

**✧ ✧ ✧**

“Hey, Sayu?” I opened the door to Sayu’s room, to see her leaning over a physics workbook. 

“Hey, Kimiko,” she said, tone dull. “Did you need something?”

I winced. She was outright ignoring me. “What’s up?” I tried tentatively. 

“Practicing for a physics quiz on Monday.”

“Sayu, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately,” I said, reaching for her shoulder as I spun her desk chair around and looked her in the eyes. “There’s been a lot going on . . . so I want to make up for it by inviting you for an outing with me this Saturday.”

Sayu’s eyes sparkled. “Really?” Her lips began to twitch up in a smile, but she quickly frowned again. “But that doesn’t explain why you haven’t been talking to us anymore. 

_ Us _ , she’d said. Not “me”, but “us”, referring to Light and Aunt Sachiko, too. She really was too sweet. 

“I know that, and . . . I’m sorry.” I pointedly glanced at the door, as if to say I was worried someone would come in. “Actually,” I said, my voice now a whisper, “you know how Light’s withdrawing a little too?”

Sayu nodded, and whispered back, “Yeah, he isn’t home a lot either, and he’s almost always studying . . . In fact, isn’t he spending less time with you, too?”

I glanced around again, then faced Sayu. “Yeah. From what I can guess . . . he’s trying to solve the Kira case—on his own.”

“Huh? Aren’t you guys working together on it?” Sayu frowned. 

“Nope. He and I are trying to figure it out individually. I’m sure he knows that I’m trying to work it out, but he isn’t broaching the subject—he probably won’t do it at all. I think he’s waiting for me to say something about it first.”

Sayu snapped her fingers—or tried to, anyway. “So  _ that’s _ why you’ve been so distant recently!” she said. 

_ Crap, she noticed? _ “You, ah, you noticed?”

Sayu deadpanned at me. “You’re surprised?”

A smile—a genuine one—crawled it's way up my face. “Nope. You’re brilliant with people, Sayu.” I reached out and patted her head softly.”

“Hey!” she swatted my hand away. “I’m not a kid anymore!” she pouted. 

I laughed, ruffling her hair further. “I know. And that’s exactly why . . .”  _ Pause for dramatic effect . . . _

The door opened. “What am I— _ cough, cough _ —what am I missing?” Light asked, smiling weakly as he stepped through the room. He was still feverish, obviously. 

“Get back to bed this instant!” Sayu and I said simultaneously, causing Light to clap his hands over his ears. 

“Ow,” he muttered. 

“You still have a fever.” I said matter-of-factly. “You’re working yourself to the bone, Light, and if you don’t get back to bed  _ this instant _ , the consequences will be severe.”

“Huh, maybe he needs someone to snuggle with him,” Sayu teased, making me shoot a a playfully scathing look at her. 

“Can’t,” Light mumbled. “She’d fall sick,” he said, yawning as he walked back to his own room. “G’night . . .”

I spun to face Sayu again as soon as I heard the door close. “Well, Sayu . . . I  _ had _ planned a surprise for you, but after that tease, I’m not so sure . . .” I tilted my head away, but pointedly peered at her expression. 

“ _ Whaaat? _ Tell me!” she pleaded, the earlier lack of communication a thing of the past. 

“Guess who arranged a private meeting for you with Hideki Ryuga?” I grinned, watching as Sayu’s expression slowly changed as she comprehended what I’d just said. 

Sayu grabbed a pillow, slammed it onto her face to muffle the noise, and screamed. After a good few minutes of shushed screaming, she looked at me, her eyes wide, and yelled, “ _ HOW? _ ”

I winked, putting a finger to my lips. “It’s a secret!”

“You . . . you really are amazing . . .” Sayu said, squeezing me tightly. 

“All in a day’s work! Now, can I breathe again?” I teased. 

“But where will he be meeting us?” Sayu asked. 

“Hamarikyu Garden.”

“Is Light going to be coming?”

“Nope.”

“Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait. What am I even going to say to him?” Sayu asked, suddenly starting to panic. “Kimiko! What do boys your age talk about?”

“Huh? My age?” Hideki Ryuga was . . .  _ my age? _ But then that would mean he was young enough to develop an interest in Sayu . . . and if that happened—

No, that was ridiculous. Well, either way, I would still be there too, so nothing too bad could happen. 

“So, what are you going to wear to Hamarikyu?” I asked Sayu, who bolted for her closet upon hearing. 

**✧ ✧ ✧**

And at long last, it was Saturday. Sayu had worn a cute blouse and a plaid skirt, with brown boots that went halfway up her calves. Her hair was partially braided on one side, then tied into a ponytail. The epitome of ‘cute chic’. 

I, on the other hand, wore a pair of white jeans with a cyan top that had silvery buttons on the right shoulder and cuffs. Because it was only half sleeved, I wore a matching white denim jacket over the top to cover the ridged scars on my arms.  _ Come to think of it, the scars are finally starting to fade, aren’t they? Hayato . . . my father . . . is finally disappearing from my life altogether. _

“Kimiko, it’s  _ hot _ —why are you wearing a jacket?” Sayu called out from across the room. 

“It’s comfortable,” I shrugged. “I like full length clothing.”

Sayu shook her head. “You can’t wear a jacket like that in this heat!” And just like that, she pulled it off of my left shoulder. 

A sudden tingle went through it—a phantom of the bullet wound I had received a few months prior. I was surprised that I still felt it—shouldn’t it have faded by now?

I was pulled back to reality when Sayu gasped loudly. 

And I realised that she’d seen the scars. 

“Kimiko, what . . .  what happened . . . ? Did you  _ cut _ yourself?” she whispered, horrified. 

I yanked my jacket on. “No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Those are . . .” I faltered. “It doesn’t matter, okay? We’re going to be late meeting—”

“You think  _ that _ matters more? If those aren’t cuts—they don’t look like they’ve been made with a knife, anyway—a  _ belt _ ? Was it . . . Uncle Hayato who—”

“Sayu, please,” I said, begging her to drop the subject. “Not now.”

“Does Light know?”

I froze. We’d never even thought of what I should say if someone found out. I’d only ever said I wasn’t comfortable talking about it, and people would stop talking about it altogether. 

But I couldn’t lie to Sayu that easily. 

“Yeah.” I admitted. 

“Why didn’t he say—”

“Because I didn’t want him to. Besides, he only found out a week or so before Hayato was killed.” Lies, glorious lies throughout the latter sentence. “And even then, I’m still not of age yet, so if a lawsuit had been filed, I would have had to leave the house and been legally moved to Osaka, where some of his relatives are, until I turned twenty. 

“I hadn’t enrolled at To-Oh at the time, either, so it would have been all too simple for me to leave. At least with the chaos of his death, and Uncle Soichiro being able to pull a few strings as police chief, I could stay with you guys and still use my house as I wished.”

“Oh . . .” Sayu said, understanding. “But . . . he cared so much about you . . .”

“Yeah, until I was eight and he became a dru—” I cut myself off sharply. I got too carried away.  _ A drunkard _ , I was about to say. 

Sayu shook her head. “Actually . . . two weeks before he . . . was killed, he’d asked me to give something to you, when he thought I should.”

What.  _ What the hell was he . . . _ I never got to finish my thought as Sayu opened her cupboard, reached into the back, and pulled out a small, yet bedazzling box. 

“I haven’t opened it or anything, but he said it was valuable, so maybe you should look at it . . .” Sayu said, holding it out carefully to me. 

“Thanks, Sayu,” I said, placing it in my bag. “But we should get going. It’ll take around half an hour to get there, and we shouldn’t be late.”

Finally, Sayu relented. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

By the time we reached Hamarikyu, Sayu seemed to have gotten past the topic of Hayato, much to my relief. I was really glad she’d be able to enjoy meeting her favourite idol. 

We made it inside the park, and, there in the distance, I was able to spot Hideki Ryuga. Misa must have told him what I looked like, as he immediately glanced our way and waved over to us. 

The first thing I noticed was that his hair was done differently than as I’d seen on TV. Instead of the scruffy blond bangs in his face (that slightly resembled L’s), some of his hair was  brushed back and slightly to the side. Honestly, it was infinitely more attractive than his other hairstyle. 

The second thing was his clothes—simple, neat, and vastly different from his stage persona’s. He was wearing a combination that Light would have favoured—a dress shirt with a baby blue sweater over it (though Light would have preferred beige), and what looked almost like fitted pants. 

“Hello,” he said, smiling warmly at Sayu and myself. “Misa Amane said that you wanted to meet me?” 

Yep, he was definitely a year younger than me. 

I glanced at Sayu, who seemed to have frozen in awe. I sighed inwardly at the irony, then lead the conversation as I bowed. “My name’s Kimiko Yamada, and this”—I nudged Sayu gently—“is Sayu Yagami.”

Sayu nodded. “Um, Ryu—”

He cut her off almost awkwardly. “If it’s okay, could you call me Hideki? It’s . . . a little weird being called by my last name when I’m not on a film set . . .” Ryuga hesitated slightly when he saw Sayu’s confused expression. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, please don’t force yourself—”

“Oh, no, it’s fine!” Sayu said, almost stumbling over her words. “But in that case, you’d have to call me ‘Sayu’.”

Ryuga nodded. “Thank you . . . Sayu.”

I pretended to not have noticed the slight blush on Sayu’s face. “So,” I said, “why did you want to meet here, Ryu—sorry, Hideki?”

He looked away sheepishly. “It’s the only place my manager would never come, so I thought it would be better of we met here. I . . . didn’t want this to be something that leaked to the media, so I didn’t tell her that I would be here today. After all, it isn’t anything related to my acting career.”

Ryuga may have been an actor, but like this, it appeared that he was actually kind of shy. Huh.

Sayu’s eyes widened. “So . . . you’re taking out your own private time for this?”

Ryuga nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Thank you,” Sayu said earnestly, smiling brightly at him. 

I noticed his cheeks turn slightly pink for a second as his eyes widened, then the expression disappeared as fast as it came.  _ So, that’s how it is, huh . . . if Light found out that someone had developed a crush on Sayu by my hand . . . I don’t know how he’d react, actually. He’d probably tell Sayu to be careful and not to squander her time while she’s still in school, but I can’t see him trying to interfere with her feelings. _

“Oh, it’s fine, really,” he said, chuckling slightly. 

“Are you dressed differently because you don’t want to be recognised?” Sayu asked, ever curious. 

Ryuga suddenly reached to touch his hair, as if checking it was still brushed. “Actually . . . this is how I prefer to dress when I’m not acting. My manager told me to ‘rough up’ my style a little so that I could appeal more and look older.”

“Really?” Sayu asked. “I think you look cute like this.”  _ Ah . . . that’s a little much, Sayu. _

But, apparently, Ryuga wasn’t used to having his own style complimented. “You . . . think so?” he asked, clearly stunned. And I don’t think that even Sayu missed the flush on his cheeks before it disappeared. “Thank you,” he said, bowing slightly.  _ And here is the proof that Death Note really is a manga. _

Just as I was about to nudge Sayu, my cellphone rang. L. 

“Sorry, I have to take this,” I said, ducking out of the conversation. 

“Come to headquarters immediately. I will messge you the address.” And the call ended.  _ He could have at least let me said something! Now we both know who as the upper hand here . . . _

I reapproached Sayu and Ryuga, who seemed to be eagerly chatting and exchanging stories as they walked through the gardens. Something inside me whispered,  _ They almost look like a couple on a date _ . 

I immediately shook the thought away. That was impossible, I told myself. But, when I glanced at them again . . . it didn’t seem so far-fetched. 

“Sorry,” I said during a lull in their conversation. “I really need to go now.”

“What? Already, Kimiko?” Sayu protested, but there was panic evident in her eyes, being left alone with her celebrity crush. Ryuga evidently felt the same, judging from the barely concealed nervousness in his expression. “Was it Light?”

“Huh? Why would you assume—oh, never mind that now. It’s one of my Criminal Justice classmates. She needs help with a paper, so she called me over.”

Clearly, Sayu didn’t buy it. “Huh. Well, bye, then, I guess!”

As I left, my phone buzzed with a text: 

 

> _ Sayu Yagami: it’s okay! you dont need to tell me when to cover for you. have fun on your date with light~ _
> 
> _ Kimiko Yamada: Isn’t Light still at home? :/ _
> 
> _ Sayu Yagami: nope. he said at breakfst that he was going somewhere at three - now _

 

I shook my head. L must’ve arranged this beforehand, probably to see whether or not I would tell Light that I had been called to. If I told him, L would have more reason to suspect both of us, thinking that I’d report his every move to Light.

He wasn’t the world’s greatest detective for nothing, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t catch on. 


End file.
